Canis Canem Edit
by Golden Moon Huntress
Summary: Oh, you think the darkness is your ally, you merely adopted the dark. We were born in it, moulded by it. We didn't see the light until we were beyond childhood; by then, it was nothing to us but blinding! Partial SYOT, closed!
1. Prologue I: Dark Hearts

Author's Note

I do not own the Hunger Games. I also don't own the quote from the summary.

Okay guys, I'm doing this! I'm starting a partial SYOT! And if you're here, you've probably got some interest in it.

So, here goes.

This is going to be a shorter story, as most of my fics generally are, told entirely from the perspective of my two tributes. This means that if you submit, your tribute may not get a lot of focus or be killed off screen. I know there are at least two other fics like this around at the moment.

In addition to this, while I've lowered the rating to a 'T' for now for better visibility, the rating will be raised to an 'M' for themes, language, and violence. This might be overkill because this is the Hunger Games and violence and death is expected. However, while I don't want to put anyone off, I also want to feel comfortable and safe myself within the site and community's guidelines.

On the other hand, the 'M' rating also means that I'm open to being submitted some darker characters. Now, I don't want twelve super dark immoral tributes, because that would be boring and most tributes are going to be normal kids (please some people submit some normal kids), but if you have got a darker character or character idea you've been wanting to submit, well, this is going to be a darker story so I'm open.

If you're still interested after all that, please visit my profile for further information, guidelines, and the submission form.

* * *

They were born less than a year apart, him first, and then her.

As they grew, they would be each other's best friends and carers. Their father left the cabin hungover in the early hours and returned drunk in the late hours. Their mother sometimes didn't come home at all, spending the night with 'Uncle Ray.' He was six and she was five when their mother came home for the last time. She screamed at their father for his drunkenness, and he screamed back for her cheating, and they watched the door swing closed.

She never came back.

Their father continued in his ways, drinking his way towards an early grave, so it was just them.

And the fairies.

And ghosts.

They were wild children, violent children, half feral monsters roaming the rolling hills and fields of the District and woodland that bordered it.

The teachers at the low, cramped stone building that served as a school for that sector of the District despaired. They were bright, intelligent, but brutal and vicious. The girls turned on her for her bizarre nature and he turned on them for their cruelty with his fists and feet. The boys turned on him for his violence and she turned on them for their hypocrisy with her teeth and nails.

The children learnt to stay away, and the adults said they weren't right, that they were wrong in the head, that their father gave them too much freedom and not enough of the fist.

They grew up alone.


	2. Prologue II: Just Like Animals

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

Submissions are still open! Please do think about submitting.

* * *

As they grew they roamed, further and further. All the land was theirs, and they knew it like the back of their hands. He was a deft shot with a slingshot to scare off the coyotes and wild dogs.

He was dragged to his first reaping at twelve, kicking and screaming and snarling, and the folk around time whispered 'maybe it wouldn't be such a shame.'

They took their first jobs when he was thirteen, not 'required' but 'recommended' (if you know what's good for you, right?), tending to the beasts in the fields until they were at the required weight for processing.

And still they ranged in their free time, away from the people who expected this from them and that from them, out to the places where no one could judge them or tell them what to do.

They roamed out to the wall that surrounded the District, towering above their heads, unmanned but topped with a live electric wire that hummed softly.

"There has to be a way through," they would whisper to each other sometimes.

"There has to be a way past."

Not because they wanted to rebel you see. Not because they wanted to betray the Capitol like all the threatening advertisements said.

Just because they wanted away from all the people and noise and light.

Like their parents before them sometimes they didn't return home, sleeping in the trees while the coyotes prowled beneath them.

"They get through," they'd tell themselves.

"There must be a way through."

They tried following the coyotes, but they could run faster, and snarled and snapped at them if they got too close. They theorised that there must be a hole in – or under, probably under - the wall somewhere, or a section of it crumbling away – it was over ninety years old and mostly unmanned and unmaintained after all.

But they never found anything.

She was taken to her first Reaping by a neighbouring family, quiet and calm and meek, everything he hadn't been.

When they asked her how she could possibly be so calm, she just said 'it's not my time.'

And she was right.


	3. Prologue III: Forever Running Wild

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

Submissions are still open! Please do think about submitting a character, I'd like to try and get people involved!

* * *

Time passed, and they roamed, and they grew.

He grew from an angry, violent, athletic young boy to a temperamental, defensive, broadshouldered, muscular young man, while she grew from a wild, vicious young girl to an eerily quiet, headstrong, lithe young woman. They went to school less and less, and home even less still, spending their time working with the beasts in the fields and roaming the surrounding land.

Most of those around knew better than to approach them now.

'Leave them be and they'll leave us be,' was the mentality. The peacekeepers dragged them home, or to the farm, several times – they weren't children anymore, they were expected to be providing – but none of it deterred them. They just got better at avoiding the peacekeepers. Climbing was a little more difficult for him these days, being bigger, heavier, but his body knew how so he still did.

They found one place where the coyotes got in and out, a hole at the bottom of the wall where the stone had cracked and crumbled away. The coyotes could clamber through with a little difficulty, but it was too small for them – now. If they'd found it six years ago, they might have made it. If they could work or wear some more of the stone away-

Perhaps.

They were forced home – not that it was their home, not any more – when the temperature dropped in the late autumn and winters. The thick snow made it impossible for them to stay out for long periods of time – although the peacekeepers forced some to do so – though they still went roaming and wandering even in the cold and their thin clothes.


	4. Prologue IV: Broken Innocence

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

I could really use some submissions! Please go ahead and submit some characters! Details and spots are on my profile. A lot of the closed spots are bloodbaths, so if you want a spot that isn't listed, PM me!

WARNING: This chapter contains swearing and violence.

* * *

She was fourteen when their father raised his hand to her. The house was old, filthy and ill kept, and she tripped as she picked her way through the hall in the dark, knocking into him and spilling his precious beer.

He roared. "Look what you've done you little bitch!"

"Was it that important?" she asked.

He smacked her. She was lithe and fit, but he was still a large, bulky man and the blow knocked her over.

"I should have beaten some fucking respect into you years ago!"

She sprang to her feet – and he hit her again. She snarled, skittering aside, as he hurled abuse at her and rained down clumsy blows in her general direction. He managed to seize a handful of her long hair, and she sunk her teeth deep into his wrist. He yelled and backhanded her again, knocking her against the wall. She tasted copper on her tongue.

There was a roar from where he'd been in the bathroom behind her and then he slammed into their father with a crack, throwing them both to the ground. He was big, even at fifteen, and the two grappled on the floor. Black rage and righteous fury gave him the strength advantage over the drunkard, and he attacked with fists and feet, snapping his teeth, snarling.

She only watched as he brought his elbow down on their father's head and throat until he stopped making noise, then brought his fists down again and again and again, fuelled by years of pent up anger and wildness. Blood splattered across the wall and floor. The man's face was a mangled lump of flesh, his neck at a crooked, wrong angle, his hand bloodstained.

He stood. There was blood smeared up his arms and splattered across his face, caught in his dark hair. He could taste it on his lips, his tongue.

The two of them stared at the body.

It was very, very dead.

He took her arm. "Come on."

* * *

They packed clothes, food, iodine, their slingshots, and fled for the fields and woodland they knew. It was cold, but better than the house. Maybe they could follow the coyotes.


	5. Prologue V: Tears of Monsters

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

Submissions are still open, but they will likely be closing soon, so please do submit!

Also, I have recently started posting another Hunger Games story called Nihil Novi, which is basically just snippets about life in the Districts. Feel free to check it out!

* * *

They had been working at the wall for four days when the peacekeepers found them – or rather, their large, hungry, vicious dogs did.

The two of them scrambled up a tree to avoid the canines, and that was where the peacekeepers found them when they arrived.

A neighbour had found their father's body when he failed to show up for work three days in a row. All fingers had been pointed to them, his wild, violent, unpredictable children.

"Feral," they called them.

They told them how two men they didn't know had broken into the house, how they had attacked them and started beating their father, how they had been so afraid that they bolted and fled for what they knew.

They ate it all up – and then countered with their theory that he had beaten their father to death in a fit of anger, taken his sister and then fled.

(they weren't far off)

She cried crocodile tears and backed up his story, but no trial in District Ten ever ended with an 'innocent' verdict and he was charged for murder (which seemed unfair, it had been manslaughter). They wanted to charge her too, she saw it in their eyes; they wanted to repeat it all over again by claiming she was an accessory to the murder of a citizen of Panem.

She stood there in her ill-fitting clothes and gazed up at the judge with her big pale eyes.

They didn't charge her.

They didn't even try.

She was declared a 'victim of circumstance' and sent home with the mother she hadn't seen in years.


	6. Prologue VI: A Pocketful of Stars

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

Thank you to everyone who has submitted a character! There are still four open slots: the District One Female, District Two Male, District Six Male, and District Eight Female. Submissions close on the thirtieth, but if you do have an interest in any of the remaining slots and aren't sure about meeting the deadline, let me know and I will hold the slot reserved for you.

* * *

Since he was underage – only fifteen – he was to return to a type of 'school' in prison and learn some skills the Capitol deemed 'useful.'

"And if you're lucky, maybe you can earn parole," grunted one of the peacekeepers.

He snarled at them, which earned him a baton to the head.

Prison was nothing but routine. Get up, wash, breakfast, class, lunch, skills lessons, free time, tea, bed. He took up running in his free time, and butchery in his skills class. The prison had their own little slaughterhouse for sheep and horses, and he spent four hours an afternoon working amongst the meat.

* * *

Her mother took one look at her and wrapped her up in her arms.

"Oh, sweetheart," was all she said.

She pushed her away.

She had given her new husband a hoard of new children, she learnt quickly, ranging from only slightly younger than her to barely walking.

Some part of her still alive and attached enough to care _seethed._

She had _them_, she cared for _them_, so why leave the two of them behind?

Was it their wildness, there even from a young age?

Was it their being their father's children?

Their violent, angry nature?

Hadn't she loved them?

Perhaps they were simply unloveable.

She was given a tiny, narrow room in the attic, barely even a room, barely high enough for her to stand without hitting her head – and what if she grew taller, huh? – but it was a space of her own, which her mother said 'was important at this difficult time.'

Whatever.

* * *

The only one of their mother's new children that was tolerable was the seven year old girl, Ariel. She was a waif of a girl, with a mop of dark hair and the same big pale eyes she had who knew more than she should and had a touch of the wildness about her that had been tamed and beaten into submission.

"You're like me, aren't you?" she asked one day.

She smiled.

And they were friends.


	7. Prologue VII: All the Days of Forever

**Author's Note**

Here we are at prologue seven! There's one last very short prologue to come after this one, then we'll be into the story proper.

Tribute submissions are now closed. All characters were accepted, although two of them had to have their Districts changed for submission or story reasons.

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

She visited him as often as she could, two, three, four, five times a week, pressing her hands against his with the glass between them as they spoke without words.

It was his charge, the guards had told him, it meant he couldn't be given a proper or private meeting with her. So they were stuck like this, so close and so far away. He told her about life here, the routine and his classes. She was back in school as well, she told him. The boys were immature bastards and the girls were bitches. She hated them all, and they whispered and spread gossip about the issues with the lights in the school building that had only started up again when she returned.

Why couldn't they have let them leave, he wondered. It wasn't like they wanted to hurt anyone. In fact, being as far away as possible from anyone else sounded great. Just them, and her fairies, and her ghosts.

This was all their dad's fault!

If he hadn't been such a prick-!

"Be calm," she told him. "We'll be free. I've seen it."

He trusted her.

She knew these things.

So he was calm.

So he worked, and he ran, and when winter came he split the firewood, and waited for the day he'd be free.

* * *

Freedom stayed out of reach.

He remained trapped, caged, working day after day. She still roamed, out across the fields, out to the woodland, a lone figure now except on rare days when another little one would bound along behind her, ill-accustomed to the terrain and struggling to keep up with her shorter legs, but it was different without him. The coyotes prowled more when there was no pack to protect her, but they knew better than to come too close. The few times she strayed too long, long after midnight, her mother would scold her and her new husband would shout.

But they couldn't keep her caged.

* * *

Days rolled into weeks.

Weeks rolled into years.

He was marched out for the reaping, his first taste of contained freedom in a year, watched on screen as a small girl of thirteen and a tall boy of eighteen were picked from two of the outpost squares. In prison there was nothing to do when he wasn't working but watch, and watch he did as the two escaped the bloodbath with the girl from Five, the boy from Nine, a broadsword and two backpacks. The arena was woody and mountainous, and the four hid themselves away in the trees.

The girl died on day four in an arena trap when the ground gave way beneath her and she was swept away in an avalanche that took out the boy from One and injured the girl from Two.

The boy from Nine died on day six, and then their boy was suddenly in the Top Eight, along with his ally and four Careers.

The Careers took out the other two remaining outer District tributes and then began a war amongst themselves, one which left only the girl from One and boy from Four standing.

After a long, drawn out finale, their boy came home Victor, the second in ten years.

* * *

The celebrations outside the prison were District wide. There seemed to be nowhere that wasn't partying. She slipped out of babysitting duty – not that she should ever be left on that, ever – to visit the bookies.

Folk in District Ten would bet on anything.

A few had bet on their own tributes – District loyalty and all that – but most had put their money on the tributes from One and Two, simply hoping to get something back.

She got quite the payout.

She didn't give any to her mom.

Instead she bought new clothes and boots for Ariel, a new slingshot for herself to replace her own handmade one, and stashed the rest away.

* * *

She visited him the day after, bringing him a cake from the bakery and a new book. Reading wasn't really his thing – more hers – but he took them and didn't question the sudden money when she gave him that knowing look. Of course the guards insisted on checking everything for 'dangerous items' so he only got two pieces of the cake, but it was better than anything he'd had in here for years.

He fell asleep holding onto the book.


	8. Prologue VIII: Dead Hearts Beating

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

This is another short one, but it is the last prologue! The next chapter boots up the story properly, and chapters will start getting longer. I'm currently aiming for around a thousand words per chapter for the pre-Games stuff.

* * *

The weeks continued to roll by.

He continued to follow his new routine, day in, day out, growing from an always athletic and muscular young man to a small giant, and the other prisoners mostly left him alone. They came and went anyway; most of his blockmates were petty thieves or those who had 'broken some rule' (aka done something one particular peacekeeper or capitol official took offence to) and only there for short periods of time, though some were repeat offenders.

* * *

Her classmates learnt to leave her be when they didn't get the reactions they wanted and in fact ended up meeting with bizarre accidents including missing belongings and mysterious injuries (Ariel did give her an odd look when a girl that slapped her broke her wrist the next day but it couldn't be her fault she fell down the stairs now could it). During class hours she swung her legs under her chair and watched the strip lights flicker.

She spent as little time as she could at her mother's house, roaming the woodland they had once roamed together. Sometimes Ariel came, but she was town born and bred, unaccustomed to the rough terrain and somewhat fearful of the coyotes.

What little time she did spend at home was spent closed up in her closet room, away from her mother and her brats. The lightbulb swung above her head every time one of the brats charged up or down the stairs and she felt the energy in it as it flickered.

* * *

The months rolled by. She continued to visit, and he pressed his hands to the glass, speaking silently with her. They needed no words while the guards were stood around watching them with their guns at their hips.

One day, they'd tell each other, one day they'd go where the coyotes went.


	9. Chapter I: Lonely They Wake at Dawn

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

First real chapter! And much longer than the prologues!

WARNINGS: Language and swearing in this chapter.

* * *

Luciente was woken by her mother's shouting ringing through the house. As the last fuzzy images from her dream faded away, she thought for a moment she could still hear the number 'fifty nine' ringing out. It was soon drowned out by noise from downstairs, the scuffling of the younger children waking or being fetched from their beds by the older ones.

She stretched out on the thin mattress and gazed at the ceiling.

Reaping day.

Universally the most hated day of the year across District Ten.

This was the day they had to send at least one - in all probability two – teenagers away to the Capitol to die.

They had no real need to worry this year, not that they knew that.

Bale, the eldest of her mother's children with her new man, banged on her door. "You'll have to get up if you want breakfast!"

She waved a hand at the door, not that he could see it. Bale turned twelve two months ago and had spent the last week on and off crying about the reaping. Ariel had tried telling him it was okay, it was already sorted – but he was having none of it.

Fuck him then.

The boy was intolerable anyway. She was pretty sure her mother must have been pregnant with him when she left their father – the ages didn't quite add up otherwise – and he was a smug, snide creature who seemed to think he owned every room he walked into.

Fuck she hated him so much!

Just the sight of his smug fucking face-!

The smell of bacon wafted up through the wafters. It did smell good. There were other things though.

She rolled into a sitting position and gazed at her reflection for a moment. Her skin was still tan, even now she couldn't roam so far. She combed her fingers through her hair, easing out the knots. It had grown long – almost intolerably long – since her mother took her knife away so she couldn't lop it off when it started getting like this.

Bitch.

She grabbed her towel and headed through to the bathroom while the hordes of the damned children were still downstairs eating breakfast. That was the one good thing about living here. Warm fucking water. At least, when the water heater was working. Her mother, the bastard she married, and most of her kids claimed they had no issues with it and it never seemed to happen to them, but more often than not it would conk out on her and Ariel, forcing them to either reset it or finish washing with cold water.

Cold water was fine.

She had washed with cold water for years.

She twisted the shower on and waited for the water to heat up before stepping beneath it. He didn't have warm water in prison she knew. Made her feel kinda bad enjoying this.

Only kinda though.

She finished up with her shower and wrapped the threadbare towel around herself before slipping out and padding back up to her room. Her dress for the reaping was laid out on her clothes chest at the end of her bed, the only two pieces of furniture in the room. It was a faded green, with an even more faded yellow flower pattern around the hems, and considerably too small for her now, since her mother said they couldn't afford a new one (and yet they could outfit Bale, hmmm?). She'd considered spending some of her remaining winnings on a new one, but that felt like a waste. She reconsidered that decision briefly given how tight the dress was around her waist, butt and boobs, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Combining her fingers through her hair, she dragged it back into a ponytail. Whisps remained loose, dancing around her face.

Sliding from the bed, she knelt and fumbled beneath it for the loose floorboard beneath it. It pried up under her fingers and she slipped her hand inside to retrieve the coinpurse, which she tucked into an inside pocket.

A sharp rap came at the door. She reached out and shoved it open. Ariel's slight figure slipped inside. "I brought you some food."

She grunted, flashing her teeth and taking the plate.

"Are you alright?"

Luciente raised an eyebrow.

"You know, the reaping."

She shrugged. "I'm not scared of the reaping. It's not my time to die."

* * *

Hyperion was woken by the blare of the prison alarm and sat up with a start. His cell door rolled open.

"ATTENTION PRISONERS. PLEASE PROCEED TO THE SHOWERS."

Not the routine. It should be breakfast first.

Right.

Of course, reaping day.

One of the guards stepped into the cell, banging his baton against the wall. "Get up you lazy piece of shit!"

He was up, he was up.

He scowled at the guard and strode from the cell. Up and down the short corridor the other prisoners were being hauled from their beds. Most of them were his age, around eighteen, but there were a few younger, and one poor boy of twelve who only cried and claimed he didn't know what he'd done whenever they asked him.

They trooped down to the shower block, where the showers were already running. He stepped under the cold water and washed down before taking a towel to dry off. Identical piles of clothes were being passed to the boys as they left the showers. One was shoved into his, a while shirt and black trousers, both emblazoned with his prison barcode, exactly the same as last year. He stepped back into his cell to dress. They were ill fitting, far too tight across his broad, muscular shoulders and thighs and hanging several inches above his ankles. He tugged at the collar, attempting to loosen it, to no avail.

The alarm blared again.

"ATTENTION PRISONERS. PLEASE PROCEED TO THE CANTEEN FOR BREAKFAST."

Yeah yeah yeah.

Breakfast was a rather small portion of oatmeal and a glass of water. He finished his slowly and steadily. At the end of the table, twelve year old Gideon was crying.

"What if they pick me because I'm here?"

Sixteen year old Keith rolled his eyes and stole his bowl.

Too slow, too bad.

The alarm blared a third time.

"ATTENTION PRISONERS. YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES REMAINING FOR BREAKFAST."

Fuck, he bet she wasn't getting timed to the second for her breakfast.

Or maybe she was from what she'd said about living with their mother.

She'd have been better off staying wild in the woods.

They'd have been better if they made it.

She'd visited him yesterday, as had the families of most of the boys here.

_"__Don't freak out tomorrow," _she'd said, and she sounded so… certain about it.

He only sighed. _"__You've seen something again, haven't you?"_

She closed her eyes. _"Maybe."_

_"__Are you sure?"_

_"__As sure as these things can be. Just… don't freak out. It wouldn't make a good impression."_

The alarm made him jump this time. Gideon wailed and burst into tears.

"ATTENTION PRISONERS. PLEASE PROCEED TO THE MAIN DOORS."

At least it meant sunlight.

Fuck, he hadn't seen sunlight in fucking forever!

He kicked his chair back and began to make his way slowly to the door.

She could be wrong of course. She had been in the past. But she'd also gotten better since then.

He reached the main doors, and a pair of handcuffs was slapped onto his wrists and tightened.

"No funny business," grunted the peacekeeper.

Hyperion was tempted to flash him his teeth, but decided against him. That was a good way to take a bullet to the head. No mistakes or arguments were allowed in the prison. The feral part of him had spent two years gnashing its teeth and snarling as he forced himself to behave.

One by one, the boys were filtered out and led onto the road. From here they'd be taken down the road to the dusty little outpost town to join the line of other teenagers.

Two of them were going to be sent to their deaths today.

He had a feeling he knew who they'd be.


	10. Chapter II: Darkness Descending

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

She slipped out of the house while her mother was busy manhandling her bazillion brats and headed out to the fields for a quiet place since the reaping wasn't until one.

Although no one had to work today the beasts still had to be seen to and there were a few men in the fields feeding and seeing to them. She clambered over the fence and headed out across the rolling slope. She couldn't go too far today – or get in too much of a mess – but she knew where she could go.

It was a small brook a little way back from most of the fields, bubbling up through the rock. She hung her feet into it, lay back in the grass, and opened her book to pass the time.

Images of the reaping and parade flickered and flashed behind her eyes. She squeezed them shut, shook her head, and tried to focus on the words of her book.

_'__May the odds be ever in your favour!'_

She jumped and nearly tore her page.

_It's not real,_ she tried to remind herself, _it's not, it's not real, not yet._

Normally there were a few fairies and a little ghost girl that liked to come play here, but today there was nothing.

Perhaps it was too late in the day. They preferred dusk to dawn.

_Fifty eight._

_Fifty seven._

_Fifty six._

BOOM!

This time she did shoot up.

A huge part of one of the cattle barns a way off had just exploded outwards, smoke trailing into the air. She blinked. What caused that then? It wasn't her this time.

Was it?

She tucked her book into her jacket and scrambled to her feet, snatching up her boots to go investigate.

Five cows came charging towards her before she even got halfway. She jumped aside, growling in warning, glancing around herself to check where the rest of the herd was. None were too close.

Closer to the barn the stench of smoke was in the air and there were two men and more than that bovine bodies on the ground, bloody and twisted and broken. The barn was well and truly alight.

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked the nearest fieldhand.

He frowned at her. "You can clear off. Was probably you started it."

"Why would I hurt the cows?" she snapped back. Cows were fine; cows were better than humans. He said nothing and she swept away.

It was half eleven already, so she better go register. As she climbed back over the fence to the road she spotted four Peacekeepers at the head of a line of boys.

Her stomach lurched.

That would be the boys from the prison.

If she waited five minutes-

But they wouldn't let her speak with him anyway. She headed away at a brisk pace, still swinging her boots in one hand.

* * *

There was already a line for entering the square. She slipped in place behind a tall blonde girl. Beyond the desks and check-ins she could see the stage that had been erected in the square.

A hand tugged at her sleeve. She growled and glanced down to find a small red haired girl.

"You should probably put your shoes on."

She frowned at the boots in her hand and grunted an agreement. The girl hurried away.

Awkwardly, she pulled her boots on while she was still in line. At the other side of the square she could see the prisoners being led in by the peacekeepers and taken to a separate line. He was easy to spot, towering above the others, even the Peacekeepers, by a head and standing slightly apart from the others.

It was so tempting to run to him, but she couldn't.

Probably they'd shoot her.

Finally she reached the front of the line to give her name and stick her hand out. The purple haired woman pricked her finger, took her fingerprints, and waved her through.

"Seventeens second from the back."

She nodded as though she hadn't done this five times already.

Those were never her time though.

BREAK

The prisoners were penned into a separate area with red rope. He scanned the square, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but there were too many teenagers here already and she was camouflaged amongst the crowd.

A few of the boys in the eighteens pen near them edged away, eyeing them warily. He smiled, all teeth. Let them be afraid.

More teens filtered in, though they didn't come close to filling out the reaping pens. The posters around the square screamed 'DO YOUR DUTY FOR YOUR NATION!'

By what?

Dying?

Finally, the last of the teens were registered. The huge screen at the front of the square flickered to life, displaying the District Ten seal. They were probably still registering teens at the main town.

They waited impatiently and uncomfortably in the heat. At last the seal split open to change to an image of District Ten's Mayor, stood on stage in the main square with the freakshow that was their escort, Cornelius St Clarance.

"We're back around to that esteemed time of the year," droned the Mayor. He tuned out, looking out over the square again to search for her. He had a half-brother here somewhere as well she'd told him. Very annoying little brat, apparently.

"We must show thanks and repentance to the glorious Capitol for their great and powerful leadership," continued the Mayor.

With her precious brat here their mother was probably somewhere in the square watching. He did spot her after a few tries, locating her on the right with a whole horde of kids. She had been right. There was a disgusting amount of children. _Do your duty_ indeed.

The Mayor droned on with the story of the rebellion, and finished up with our need to thank the Capitol for their generosity and kindness, before handing off to St Clarance for the yearly video. Images of a war-torn Panem flashed across the screen. But what happened to the rest of it? There was land out there, outside the Districts! Ten didn't border another District; the coyotes didn't sneak in here through Twelve! No; there was land out there, outside the Districts, outside the Capitol's rules, and that was where they should be running free.

Cornelius St Clarance waddled out onto stage. His pudgy belly was nearly exploding from his slick blue jacket.

"Ah, good afternoon boys and girls."

Not one person in the main square replied.

"It's good to see so many young faces! Some new ones, some old ones I'm sure. And everyone else watching!" He gave a pathetic little wave to the camera.

He really wished he'd just get on with it.

"Happy Hunger Games to you all! Now, we'll do the boys first this year I think."

He tended to switch it off every year: it was his _thing_.

He watched as St Clarance waddled over to the boy's bowl. The podium it stood on had had to be lowered in order for him to reach.

He dipped his hand inside, swirling it around.

The boys around him waited.

The District held its breath.

"The boy who will have the honour of representing District Ten this year will be…" He made a great show of unfolding the slip – or maybe he really was struggling with his fat stubby fingers. "Hyperion Ripley!"

It's not not a surprise, if that made any sense.

He had had the prior warning.

He searched the crowd as he stepped to the front of his pen. One of the Peacekeepers moved to move the rope and let him out, leading him up to the stage. His eyes finally found her, stood amongst the seventeen year old girls, her arms wrapped around something under her jacket and her pale eyes fixed on him.

He said nothing.

"Ah, yes, there you are Hyperion," St Clarence said from the main stage. "I'm sure we'll meet soon. Now, let's find out who's going with you."

He hoped against what he knew was about to happen.

* * *

She watched as he climbed those steps to stand next to the Peacekeeper he towered over on stage. His clothes didn't fit right, she noticed, they matched.

Cornelius St Clarence swirled his fat little fingers around the girls' reaping bowl. She watched as he finally plucked one out like some prized pig and waddled back to the microphone, stumbling over a loose floorboard on the way.

Exactly as she saw.

He unfolded the slip slowly, but she was already moving towards the aisle, girls moving out her way.

She knew what he was about to say.

"The girl who will have the honour of representing District Ten along with Hyperion this year will be…" He undid the last fold with a flourish. "Luciente Ripley!"

Exactly as she saw.

She stepped out of the rope corral and strode up towards the stage as the Peacekeepers were still moving towards her, quickly scurrying up the steps and launching herself into his arms.

Play nice for the camera.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your tributes for the Ninety Fourth Hunger Games! Hyperion Ripley and Luciente Ripley!"


	11. Chapter III: Fickle as the Stars

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

A big thank you to Celtic and MoonlightSalsa for the reviews!

Next chapter will be the reaping recaps/review and the release of the tribute list, so stay tuned!

* * *

They were herded into the Town Hall and through a red door into a small waiting room, never relinquishing the contact with each other.

"You were right," he said when the door closed.

She gave him a thin smile. "What now?"

"Now we fight."

* * *

Their mother came to visit, all tears and wailing. She threw herself at Luciente, wrapping her arms around her neck. "Oh, I can't believe this! My poor babies!"

Luciente prised her away and took a step back, growling softly.

Hyperion scowled. "Since when have we been your babies?"

They weren't even her babies when they were literal babies, left to run wild amongst the fields and trees and coyotes.

Why would they be her babies now?

She'd barely been to visit him once a month.

"You'll always be my babies. I never wanted to leave you, oh, my poor poor babies! How can they do this?"

"They're the Capitol. They'll do what they want," Hyperion replied.

They usually did.

Their mother sniffled. "Listen to me. You have to fight. Promise me you'll look after each other, promise me you'll fight."

Hyperion scowled more. "I don't see why we need to."

* * *

Their only other visitor was Ariel. Her little forlorn figure slipped into the room, her dark hair framing a pale face.

"And she is..?" Hyperion asked.

"Oh, this is Ariel. One of our mother's other children," Luciente replied.

"You must be Hyperion. Nice to meet you."

He murmured a reply and took her hand as she gazed at him with her pale, pale eyes. Hyperion shivered as he saw it, that same… _otherness_ that Luciente held. She hopped up into one of the armchairs.

"Did you know?" she asked.

"I thought I did," Luciente replied.

"I wanted to thank you for your help. I'll miss you."

"Yeah. Me too." Luciente fumbled in her pocket and pulled out her coin purse. "Here. This is for you."

Ariel took it, her eyes widening with comical surprise. "I can't-"

"We won't need it where we're going. Just make sure your family doesn't get their paws into it. It's yours."

Ariel smiled. "Thank you. What will you do now?"

"Play the game."

* * *

They were led from the Town Hall and loaded into a hovercraft for the trip to the main town. From there, they'd board the train to be taken to the Capitol. Luciente stood by the window and watched the landscape pass. Hyperion joined her to stand at her shoulder.

The hovercraft made an awful groaning, creaking sound as it took off. He'd never heard one make a noise like that before, but then he'd never been inside one before.

The fields they had once roamed rolled out below them, further and further, until they came to land they didn't recognise, land that had been too far in a direction they weren't interested in for them to explore.

They wondered if the coyotes even came here. It was very far away from the wall after all.

At last they reached the main town, where they were led from the hovercraft and onto the train station. It was a large, dusty slab of concrete, with several huge warehouses around and against it. A slick, shining train was sat on the tracks, waiting.

Cornelius St Clarance hurried over to meet them. He was a short, fat man, with neon green hair, bright yellow skin, and a grotesquely swollen tongue. "Ah, ah, here we are!" He grabbed Hyperion's hand, pumping it up and down eagerly. "You must be Hydreigon! And this will be Lunala!"

They glared at him, silent, impassive.

"Now, tell me, tell me, what is your relationship? Are you siblings, cousins, unrelated? Just to clarify."

"She's my sister," Hyperion replied.

"Oh, how exciting! There hasn't been siblings in the Games since- let me think, let me think, oh, back in the Seventies I believe! There'll be an awful lot of interest in you two. Come along, come along!"

Hyperion grasped Luciente's elbow and pulled her in front of him as they boarded the train. The doors swished closed behind them.

"Now, your rooms are just down there. Feel free to go and, er, change." He eyed Hyperion's ill fitting prison uniform critically. "I believe Meadow and Holden are around here somewhere; they'll be your mentors. Supper will be at six, do come and join us."

Luciente gave him an empty smile. Hyperion took her arm and led her away.

* * *

They found their rooms, one marked with a plaque reading 'DISTRICT TEN MALE' and the other with 'DISTRICT TEN FEMALE.' Both had large, double beds and a wardrobe the size of Luciente's room at her mother's house. They chose Hyperion's room and locked the door. He pulled off his ill fitting shirt, tossing it under the dresser at the end of the bed, and dug through the wardrobe to find the biggest shirt and trousers he could. "I'll take a shower."

She nodded, watching him vanish behind the door and lying down on the mattress to wait. She had dreamt of them being free, running with the coyotes, but maybe she misunderstood. Dreams and the future were tricky things, shifting like dirt through her fingers.

The shower shut off in the bathroom. She hunted through the wardrobe to find the smallest clothing and waited for him to leave before taking his place in the shower.

Once they were both showered and dressed in slightly better (albeit still ill-fitting) clothing, they set off to explore the train. Further down their carriage were another set of rooms for the mentors and St Clarence. The next carriage contained weights and workout equipment, with a small glass room at the very end looking out at the landscape behind them. They both stood there for a moment, gazing at the fields and rolling hills sprawling out around them.

"Still District Ten," Luciente said, turning away.

* * *

The carriage in front of theirs was a dining area, complete with a long table laden down with food, smoked meats and vegetables, soups, and more bread than Hyperion had seen in his life.

The one after that was a sitting area, containing a large, comfortable U shaped sofa and the second biggest TV screen the two of them had ever seen, in front of which two three figures were sitting. One was, of course, the ugly figure of Cornelius St Clarence. The other two were a young man and a slightly older woman.

"Ah, Hadrian, Lucy, there you are! This is Meadow and Holden; they'll be your mentors this year."

Last year's Victor wasn't mentoring, Hyperion noted dully.

"Nice to meet you," said Luciente.

"Nice to meet you too. Sit down," replied Meadow.

"Cornelius tells us you two are siblings," Holden said.

"Yes."

Meadow nodded to herself. "You'll want to capitalise on that as much as you can. The sponsors'll love it. Am I to assume you'll want to be mentored together?"

"Yes."

"Right. Well, the first thing you need to come to terms with is that one of you is going to have to see the other die, even if one of you becomes Victor."

Meadow frowned. "Holden!"

"There's no use beating around the bush Meadow. If one of them wants to live, one of them has to die."

Hyperion squeezed Luciente's hand. "I'll make sure it's not you."

She smiled. "That won't be necessary."

St Clarance wiped at his eyes with a fat hand. "You two are too sweet."

"Play it like that. The sponsors should eat it up," agreed Meadow.

"Have you thought much about what you want to do in the arena?" Holden asked.

"Run."

Meadow hummed. "Well, that's one plan, but at some point you'll need a better plan. Now, normally I advise against entering the bloodbath for the cornucopia, but it is a good source of supplies, and you two look strong, so I'll leave that decision up to you once we've seen the other tributes. They'll be playing the reaping recaps tonight. Do you want allies?"

They looked at each other. "Maybe."

"Right, well. Five and Nine have been solid allies in the last decade. Now, you'll want to avoid the Careers in the arena even if you can build up an alliance. I recommend finding a safe place you can use as a base camp; it'll give you an advantage to know the area. Of course, we won't know what the arena terrain will be until the Games start, so I can't advise you there, but it's often woodland."

Hyperion smiled. "Woodland we can do."


	12. Chapter IV: Born to Die

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

We're at the reaping recaps and our first glimpse at all the tributes. Not everyone gets a focus, but they will feature later on. If you're impatient, the full tribute list is at the end of the chapter.

* * *

They spoke for a long while, discussing arena plans and overall strategies. All three of them seemed very fixed on the fact they were siblings, which was a little irritating. At last two men in suits began to bring platters of food through.

"Oh, thank you," said Meadow.

St Clarance waved his hand. "How many times do I need to tell you not to thank the avoxes? They're literally doing their purpose!"

Holden scowled, stood, and strode out of the carriage, returning a few minutes later with two platters of food. "You might as well eat. You'll need your strength for the arena."

Hyperion helped himself to large portions of meat and vegetables, many foods he hadn't had in years – or, some of it, ever. Luciente took a little less, dainty little portions which she picked at as she watched the green land rolling by outside the window.

There was still food on the tables even when they decided they were finished, and the two men returned to clear it away. Holden produced a triangular piece of metal with a button on it from a pocket on the wall and clicked the button.

"Reaping recaps should be starting soon. Let's see what you're up against."

* * *

Two people appeared on screen, a woman with puffy pink hair and a man with narrow green eyes and pale skin, both seated behind a large desk.

"Good evening Panem! This afternoon the live reapings kept us all on the edge of our seat seeing who our tributes will be for the Ninety Fourth Hunger Games, but for those who missed it, we're here to give you all the lowdown and current opinions on our tributes!"

District One's seal appeared on screen as a transition to their reapings. Hyperion took a long sip of water as their escort plucked a name from the reaping ball, a small, delicate looking fourteen year old, before calling for volunteers. Six of them put their names forwards, though there seemed to be some argument over one of them. The reaped girl selected a name from the ball, the girl that had been argued over, who was called Nike Arellano. She smiled out at the crowd and waved for the cameras, twirling a neat circle on the spot.

"Showy," muttered Holden.

One of the other girls on stage scowled and rammed into the chosen one as she left.

The same procedure was repeated for the boys. They produced a blonde boy called Damon Newbury, who seemed to dwarf his District partner, with broad shoulders and a wicked smile that he flashed at the camera.

"Typical Careers," was Meadow's comment.

District Two was next, a large square carved from rock. They seemed to be having some trouble with their escort, who was dressed in a peacekeeper's outfit, as some of the teenagers at the front were shouting something that had been muted in favour of the Capitolites' commentary. The District produced two large, muscular eighteen year olds, a dark haired boy and a blonde girl with her honey brown eyes sharply highlighted by black makeup. The girl, much like many of the others, seemed to have taken some issue with the escort and was jabbing a hand at him while the boy stood ominously and silently behind her.

"Death machines," muttered Holden.

Luciente hummed softly. "No one's born as a death machine."

The feed was cut off abruptly and District Three's seal appeared as the feed transitioned. They sent a small, wiry dark haired girl and a little pale boy in a too big shirt.

"More duds for Three," murmured Meadow.

Next up was District Four. Decades ago they had been a solid Career District like One and Two, but now they seemed to be fifty-fifty on what they produced.

This year, an eighteen year old was reaped for the girls and she made it up to the stage, waving.

"Do we have any volunteers for Irma's place?" asked the escort.

They did, almost immediately, an athletic looking dark skinned girl with dark, curly hair who stormed up to the stage like it had wronged her and snatched the microphone before the escort could approach her.

"I want you to know you rebels and the Capitol are just as bad as each other! Fuckers, all of you!"

The escort made a grab for the microphone but she threw it to the ground and slammed one black boot down on it until it cracked.

"Well," said Meadow.

"She's pretty," said Luciente.

Holden frowned at her. "That's what you've got to say? She's pretty?"

The escort was forced to reap the boy without the microphone, calling the name out as loudly as she could. "Aros Curran!"

He came from the sixteens, though he looked small and petite compared to the boys of that age they knew, with cropped black hair and sharp green eyes. He made his way up to the stage slowly and stood by the girl looking shocked and fearful and keeping his gaze fixed on the ground.

"Do we have any volunteers for Aros's place?" called the escort.

None came.

"Probably both Career allies," Meadow said.

District Four faded into District Five, who gave up a slender, brown haired girl in a cream blouse called Shelley Fisher and a tiny, copper haired twelve year old. Holden winced. The girl gave a stiff looking smile, gazing out over the gathered crowd, while the boy stood wide eyed and pale.

"Ten's allied with Five a lot in the last decade. The girl looks promising," Meadow said.

Luciente tipped her head. "I want the boy."

Hyperion gave her a sharp look. "Him?"

"I'll take the girl, but I want the boy."

Hyperion nodded, and Luciente gazed at the boy's image on screen until the District Six seal faded up. From one crowded square a small, skinny boy with black hair was dragged out and up to the stage by Peacekeepers, where he stood, sobbing, while from another, smaller square came a confused looking girl with curly chestnut hair. Luciente beat her fingers against the table. "I'd put my money on her."

"We're putting our money on you two," Holden pointed out.

Luciente shrugged. "I'd still put my money on her."

From a small square enclosed by trees in Seven came a muscular, dark haired eighteen year old boy, and from another, larger, dustier square came a sobbing, shaking girl.

"Promising," said Holden.

"Better than Seven's produced in a while," agreed Meadow.

Luciente frowned at the screen. "No."

Holden frowned at her. "No? The girl's crying, but they look strong."

Luciente shook her head and folded her arms across her chest. "No."

"Very well."

The feed cut to the seal for District Eight. From one dirty, dusty square came a small blonde girl, pale and freckled, in a patchwork dress. The feed cut to another square, where a thin, stooped boy was reaped.

"Let me guess, you want her too?" asked Holden dryly. Luciente studied the picture of the girl on screen.

"Maybe."

Eight faded into Nine, which the two presenters were babbling excitedly about.

"-looking strong this year!"

"Oh, definitely. It's a good year for District Nine, but we have yet to see their performance at, well, anything."

The two laughed as though it was a great joke.

"Abundance Harper!" called Nine's escort. The screen transitioned to a girl in some outlying square, tall and athletic looking with deeply tanned skin in brown dungarees. She looked frozen for a moment, the girls around her parting as two Peacekeepers began to move towards her. Finally she made a move, her eyes darting here and there as she made her way up to the stage.

"Looks skittish," grunted Holden.

"Looks strong enough," countered Meadow.

"Can you see that muscle on her?" dithered one of the presenters on screen.

The camera zoomed in, scanning the girl over, lingering on her bosom for longer than seemed necessary. Capitol pervs.

The feed cut back to their escort, who called out the male. "Ezekiel Blaze!"

He came from the thirteens section of the main square, a scrawny, brown haired boy in a green shirt that stepped shakily up onto the stage.

"Ah, there you are. Any volunteers?"

There was a moment of pause.

"Very well."

"Wait! I- I volunteer!"

The boy came from the sixteens, tall and tan, with deep brown hair. He hurried up to the stage, clasping Ezekiel's arm before pushing him hurriedly down off the stage.

"Oh, very good! What would your name be young man?"

"Azrayk Blaze."

"Ah, and I assume that was your brother?"

"Yes. Fuck, I just volunteered."

The two presenters tittered with laughter at that.

"Ah. Another promising one if you want to make the usual alliance," said Holden.

Meadow nodded her approval.

"You could do worse than those two."

Soon enough it was their own seal, transitioning into a shot of what appeared to be the main square. Hyperion tuned into the wittering from the two Capitolites.

"Now, unfortunately ladies and gentlemen, we appear to have had some technical difficulties from Ten this year."

On screen, St Clarance read out Hyperion's name, but the image of their own square was grainy and dangerously blurry, his figure barely more than a looming shadow.

"From what I'm being told, these are the best close up images. Fortunately, we do have some better long distance shots."

The image cut to a feed showing the square from way back by what had to be the clock tower as Luciente launched herself into Hyperion's arms.

"But of course, we can still all see that uniform that Hyperion's wearing, and I have received confirmation that Luciente is his younger sister."

"Yes, yes! We're expecting very exciting things from District Ten this year, aren't we Ardole?"

"Oh, absolutely! He looks like a genuine criminal, but she's certainly not afraid of him! We'll have to see how they do."

Their images on screen faded into the District Elven seal, which gave way to a large square somewhere in Eleven from which a small, scrawny boy called Noel Garland came. The girl, Heaven Jonas, came from another, much smaller square and looked like she was about to scream, stumbling her way up onto stage.

Finally they reached District Twelve.  
"Tamika Tran!" called the escort.

She came from the twelves, clutching her stomach and blubbering ugly tears.

"Another one for our bleeding heart here?" asked Holden dryly.

Luciente flashed him her teeth.

The boy from Twelve, Sedge Hastings, came from the eighteens, a tall, lean olive skinned boy. Luciente tensed her shoulders and snarled, narrowing her eyes at the screen.

Hyperion laid a hand on her shoulder. "What is it?"

She hissed through her teeth, scowling at the boy's image until it faded away into a board featuring all twenty four of the tributes.

"And there we have it Vanity! Our tributes for the Ninety Fourth Hunger Games! Isn't this exciting?"

"That's one thing to call it," Hyperion grumbled, gazing at Luciente's image on screen.

"Now, our current odds polls have Livia Dolabella and Cairn Aphelion of District Two beating down the completion, with Nike Arelleno and Damon Newbury of District One close behind and Hyperion and Luciente Ripley pulling in in fifth and sixth places."

The photos began to move, stacking themselves in order as the Capitolites spoke. The pair from Four were beneath them, followed by the pair from Seven, then the pair from Nine and the girl from Five.

"Thoughts?"

"I want the boy from Five," Luciente said. On screen, the little red headed boy hadn't yet been added to the rankings.

"That's your funeral. What else?"

"I think we can go with the usual alliance. Five and Nine," said Hyperion.

"What about Seven?"

"No," Luciente said.

"No," agreed Hyperion.

"Any particular reason why?" asked Meadow.

Hyperion shrugged. "She usually has her reasons."

* * *

And, as promised, here is the full tribute list! Thank you to everyone who submitted!

**DISTRICT ONE**

**MALE: **Damon Newbury, 18 (TheAmazingJAJ)

**FEMALE: **Nike Arellano, 16 (SetFiresJust2WatchThemBurn)

**DISTRICT TWO**

**MALE: **Cairn Aphelion, 18 (SetFiresJust2WatchThemBurn)

**FEMALE: **Livia Dolabella (CelticGames4)

**DISTRICT THREE**

**MALE: **Bethany Copper, 16 (Golden Moon Huntress)

**FEMALE: **Zircon Keyes, 14 (Golden Moon Huntress)

**DISTRICT FOUR**

**MALE: **Aros Curran, 16 (HogwartsDreamer113)

**FEMALE: **Ilenia Costello, 16 (TheEngineeringGames)

**DISTRICT FIVE**

**MALE: **Nathaniel Volkner, 12 (Golden Moon Huntress)

**FEMALE: **Shelley Fisher, 17 (MidnightSalsa)

**DISTRICT SIX**

**MALE: **Wylie Cooper, 13 (SongofFete)

**FEMALE: **Arielle Wayne, 15 (Golden Moon Huntress)

**DISTRICT SEVEN**

**MALE: **Sylvan Cale, 18 (Golden Moon Huntress)

**FEMALE: **Wisteria Arbor, 18 (Golden Moon Huntress)

**DISTRICT EIGHT**

**MALE: **Rufous Azul, 16 (Golden Moon Huntress)

**FEMALE: **Chenille Darter, 14 (Golden Moon Huntress)

**DISTRICT NINE**

**MALE: **Azrayk Blaze, 16 (Pacecca)

**FEMALE: **Abundance Harper, 17 (SongofFete)

**DISTRICT TEN**

**MALE: **Hyperion Ripley, 18 (Golden Moon Huntress)

**FEMALE: **Luciente Ripley, 18 (Golden Moon Huntress)

**DISTRICT ELEVEN**

**MALE: **Noel Garland, 15 (Golden Moon Huntress)

**FEMALE: **Heaven Jonas, 17 (A Proud Bibliophile)

**DISTRICT TWELVE**

**MALE: **Sedge Hastings, 18 (Golden Moon Huntress)

**FEMALE: **Tamika Tran, 12 (CelticGames4)


	13. Chapter V: Creeping Like the Dawn

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

They slept in the same bed that night, and she dreamt of running free through the woods, rough earth, sticks and stones under her bare feet. The sky stretches out above her, grey and featureless, and the land stretches further than her eyes can see. Thin trees cover it, their spindly branches lashing her bare arms and face. She glances back for her packmates, finds them there. _'Come on! Keep moving!'_

They can't stop.

She knows they mustn't stop.

There's blood in the air, sharp and coppery. She breathes it in, tips her head. Injured, but alive. Food, they need food. She raises an arm, indicates, and they follow.

* * *

She woke with thin beams of sunlight splashing across the bed and his arm laid across her chest. Stretching out, she rolled from the bed and stretched out.

"Morning," he murmured.

"Morning. How you feeling?"

"Hungry."

She grinned. "They've probably got breakfast around here somewhere."

He pushed himself to his feet and rolled his shoulders. She was stood gazing out the window at the now unfamiliar landscape.

"Where are we?"

"Passing through District Two."

He joined her. The land outside was an expanse of rocky mountains and stony land.

Nothing like the place she dreamed of.

She turned away and padded through to the bathroom while he watched the scenery pass.

* * *

The two of them showered and redressed in clean clothing, shirts and trousers before going in search of food.

They didn't have to go far. Plates and platters had been laid out in the second carriage, various breads and meats and fruits. She took helpings of the fruit and bread, while he took smoked beef and bacon on bread. They were both pretty sure this was more food in one place than either of them had seen in their whole entire lives.

As they ate a screen at the front of the compartment was playing some Capitol talk show that kept showing images of the tributes. Another fuzzy clip from the end of their reaping, zoomed in from afar to show their faces, caught his attention as the woman commentating squealed 'oh, look, she's just so cute!'

He rolled his eyes.

On the list of ways not to describe his sister, that one had to be top.

They had almost finished by the time Meadow and Holden arrived.

"Early risers. How are you feeling this morning?" asked Meadow.

Hyperion shrugged.

"Well, we'll be arriving at the Capitol in a few hours, and then you'll have the parade this evening. I recommend you get some more rest in."

The two Victors helped themselves to plates of food and retreated to the next carriage. Luciente smiled grimly. "They think we're going to die."

"One of us is."

She tipped her head. "Are they?"

He frowned. "I don't see how we can't."

"You have so little faith these days."

He sighed and gazed out at the mountains. "Sometimes I wish we'd just ran."

They could have made it, if they hadn't stayed in the cage so long.

"If we'd gone before..."

* * *

They spoke a little more to the two mentors before retreating to the glass room at the back of the train. It felt like sitting in the air as the world whooshed by around them. She closed her eyes, remembering the confused expression of the girl from Six, along with the pale face of the little boy from Five with Ariel's big pale eyes.

He leant back against the glass, watching the sky above them and the land closing in on the train.

The train plunged through a long, stone tunnel and out into land that was a mass of greenery and trees.

Land outside the Districts.

Fertile land, land where he could see birds.

They could jump off here, flee the train-

But of course, they'd probably break their legs at the very least, which wouldn't be… conductive to an escape. And this was between the Districts: they'd hunt them down pretty quickly.

They'd have to play this game, come what may.


	14. Chapter VI: Neon Screams

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games. A big thank you to everyone for all the reviews so far.

* * *

They saw the Capitol long before they arrived, a mass of tall, shining buildings and lights. He touched her shoulder. "Look."

She looked and wrinkled her nose.

The door rolled open and St Clarance's podgy figure arrived. "Ah, there you two are. Come along, come along, we'll be arriving soon."

Neither of them moved.

St Clarance waved his fat arms. "Come along, come along!"

He sighed and got to his feet. He'd played the 'go here, do this' game enough times to feel like a trained dog. They ought to be able to run, roam, hunt.

They followed St Clarance through to the first carriage. Meadow and Holden were lounging on one of the sofas. Through the window, the two of them could see the shining buildings of the Capitol looming up ahead of them.

"I hope you're ready for this." Holden said.

The train shot past the first of the buildings, which looked like a warehouse. Another whizzed past, and another, and then the train dipped to be swallowed by a tunnel.

"Oh, excellent. This is a wonderful view," Hyperion commented.

St Clarance glared at him.

The train began to slow, finally coming to a halt at a large, gleaming white station. A crowd of people had gathered there, clamouring to get a glimpse at the window. Luciente slipped her hand into Hyperion's.

"You two are so sweet!" cooed St Clarance.

Hyperion scowled and pulled Luciente away from the window.

St Clarance led them to the train's main doors, and Meadow and Holden took up places behind them.

The doors swooshed open. The cheering was nearly deafening. Camera flashes lit up the air. St Clarance grabbed their arms, dragging them out into the fray. Barriers held the crowds away from their path, but they were pressed against them, reaching through them, grabbing at their arms and hair and clothes.

And they called them animals.

Luciente stuck close to Hyperion as they hurried to the doors on the other side of the platform. One woman managed to grab her arm. She yanked it away, snarling, and the two walked a little faster.

Behind them, their train took off with a rumbling roar, and there was another whoosh as another pulled in.

It felt like a lifetime before the doors slammed closed behind them. Their ears rang, and they could still hear the screaming behind them.

The doors led to a long, silver sided tunnel. At the other end they could see what looked like the tributes from Nine stood at a desk.

Behind them, the doors swooshed open and closed again.

They were waved past as their little group arrived.

"District Ten, Holly and Lewis Riley," St Clarance squeaked. The purple haired woman at the desk tapped her fingers against the screen in front of her.

"That's Hyperion and Luciente Ripley, correct?"

St Clarance waved his hand. "Yes, yes, whatever."

"Come along Tamika, do keep up," came a voice from somewhere behind them.

"Well maybe if you weren't walking like you thought the world was ending."

Two women appeared from a door behind the desk and swept the two of them away down the corridor. Hyperion twisted round to catch one last look at Luciente as they were ushered down separate hallways.

Luciente never looked back.

* * *

He was steered into a small metal room marked with the words 'DISTRICT TEN MALE,' where he was met with four more Capitolites, all with garishly coloured skin and hair. They skittered around him nervously as though he might bite.

Hyperion thought he just might.

At last one of them squeaked for him to take his clothes off. He stripped and they 'ooh'ed over his physique.

Hyperion was very tempted to snap his teeth, but decided it might be more trouble than it was worth.

The four Capitolites spent an inordinate amount of time fussing over him, pushing him under an unbearably hot shower and then into a bathtub of water, scrubbing him red raw and then insisting he took another shower.

_Go here, do that, good dog._

Dogs could bite, and he was tempted.

They washed his dark hair, squeaking something about dirt and dust, and then washed it again, and then a third time.

He bared his teeth when they tried to approach him again with the sponge, and smacked it from the bitch's hands.

"That's enough."

"Oh, but we're not-"

"You're done."

"I say-"

He snarled like Luciente liked to do, deep and violent. "I said you're done."

One of them scurried off and returned with a tall, thin, purple haired man.

"You must be Hyperion."

Excellent deduction skills there.

"I am Valentino," he announced with a flourish. When Hyperion didn't respond, he continued. "I will be your stylist. I am told you refuse the prepping?"

"I'm done."

He looked him over with a critical eye, but evidently decided not to argue with the boy more than twice his size.

"Fine. Follow me."

Hyperion followed him through another door into a much more spacious room with a raised stage in the centre. A mannequin stood behind it.

"Now, I had originally wanted to dress the male from your District as a cowboy, to portray the essence of Ten."

Hyperion wondered if he had ever actually been to Ten.

"But after seeing you and your sister chosen, I changed my mind to something more… loyal and familial." He waved his hand at the mannequin.

Hyperion eyed it. "A coyote?"

Valentino smacked him round the head with a tape measure. "A wolf!"

It looked like a coyote.


	15. Chapter VII: What Lies in Wait

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

Here we go with our first meeting with the other tributes! As a note, I have done my best to make sure every submitted tribute features a little in the Pre-Games chapters. However, some of them feature more heavily than others, and some don't start to feature heavily until the arena chapters. So if your character doesn't show up a lot, don't worry yet!

* * *

The two of them met up in front of the elevators. Both had been dressed as coyote/wolves, identical other than the colours, Hyperion in shades of brown and Luciente in shades of white and yellow. Their costumes were soft, downy fur with large, bushy tails, and their faces had been painted to match. Small pointed ears protruded from their hair and their gloves narrowed down into clawed points. They'd even been given prosthetics to give them fangs.

Luciente was kinda hoping she could keep those.

The elevators were large and glass, briefly rising upwards through darkness before breaking into light. The doors swooshed open and they stepped out into a large warehouse-esque hall. Some of the other tributes were already there, standing at their stations or gathered in small groups of three or four. Their station and chariot was marked with a large '10,' with the one stylised to look like bull's horns. Hyperion flicked it. "They had a theme."

One they'd had to discard, evidently. Or maybe materials being reused from last year. The boy had been dressed as a bull, he remembered.

"You want to take a reading?"

Luciente looked up at him with those pale eyes and smiled. "Oh, please."

He took her hand and they moved away their own chariot and on past Nine, which was a golden wood and had been decorated with strands of green and gold plants. Their tributes didn't appear to be here yet.

The boy from Eight was sat on the back of his chariot. He was thin and pale, wearing a pale pink suit of some shiny material. He lifted his head to watch them pass with large, frightened eyes. Luciente offered him a slight smile. _Shy, jumpy._ District Seven's station was empty, but the two from District Six were talking by their chariot. The girl was in a pink and red dress with an enormous puffy skirt patterned with trains, while the boy was wearing some kind of old-timey uniform in colours bright enough to give anyone a headache, neon orange trousers, a vivid, rainbow coloured jacket buttoned up on the right with a hat adorned by lights that kept changing colours. Hyperion wasn't quite sure what he was meant to be, a psychedelic meltdown possibly.

The boy grinned up at them. _Nervous, cheerful, anxious._

"Nice costumes doggies."

"Nice hat," Hyperion grunted back.

Luciente stopped by the girl. She looked pale and frightened, even under the makeup, with her hair teased into more angelic looking ringlets than the messy curls from the reaping. Luciente took her hands and pressed them tight. "It's going to be alright. It'll all work out."

The girl jumped and shied back. The boy frowned, hesitant, very clearly trying to keep his chin up and look brave. "H-hey, keep your hands off her!"

"I- It's alright Wylie. I'm sorry, I don't remember your name from the reaping."

"Luciente. What's yours?"

"Arielle Wayne." She glanced at her District partner. "This is Wylie."

"Hi!" He thrust his hand out.

Luciente hissed through her prosthetics. He skittered back a little, as though trying to put his chariot between him and them. Like he could hide in that outfit.

"Nice to meet you Arielle Wayne. I'm betting on you."

Hyperion tugged at her arm and led her away.

There was no sign of the tributes from Five and the copper haired boy from the reaping, so they continued on to where the girl from Four was stood by her chariot, glaring at the Peacekeepers stationed around the warehouse. Her skin had been painted a scaly grey and her lower half encased in a long, black, fishtail flicked up at the end. _Angry_, Luciente understood, _bitter._

"What?" she snapped, revealing jagged yellow prosthetic teeth fitted over her own.

Luciente grinned, showing off her own fangs. "It's not us you're angry at."

She curled her upper lip, but her expression softened slightly. "I don't want to imagine having to enter the Games with my brother."

"Bastards, all of them."

The girl stiffened. "What did yo-"

Hyperion pulled her closer and forced her onwards. District Three's station was empty, while the pair from One and the girl from Two were gathered by the next chariot. Hyperion led Luciente past and around.

"Loving the tails!" shouted the girl from Two, who was wearing grey armour that didn't look as though it fitted quite right, broad at the shoulders and narrow across her chest. _Repurposed_, Luciente understood, but why?

"Cute ears," said the girl from One, reaching out towards Luciente's. She was wearing a short black dress studded with some kind of glittery black stone and a floor length white fur cloak. "Your costumes are cuter than ours."

Luciente snarled and snapped at her fingers. The girl yanked her hand back with a yelp.

"Hey!"

Hyperion wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her close and pulling her in front of him. "Don't touch her."

The girl from Two scowled. "Was that a threat?"

"It sure looked like a threat," said the boy from One. "You want to start something Ten?"

"I want you to keep your hands off my sister."

The boy from One looked Luciente up and down, his gaze crawling over her. "You sure she wants that?"

Luciente growled and flashed him her teeth. Hyperion prompted her onwards. Soon enough they were out of earshot of the four Careers and circling around to the back of the chariots.

The District Eleven pair came from the elevators as they did so. The girl was wearing a flowing white dress with flowers woven into her hair and around her arms, while the boy was in some kind of pitch black armour, complete with a heavy helm that he didn't appear to be able to see much out of, as the girl was leading him by the arm.

He knocked into a support pillar and stumbled sideways, slamming hard into his District partner.

"Ow! Noel!"

"Sorry."

"Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. Sorry again."

District Twelve's chariot was painted black, with two black horses. The

girl was already there, wearing what almost looked like dungarees over a dirty white shirt, her skin smeared with black dirt. There were tear marks in the black dust across her face and her lips were scrunched up.

"What are you two meant to be; the Capitol's lapdogs?"

Luciente said nothing, but she did look her up and down. The girl scowled. "What's that meant to mean?"

"Shepherds with dying lambs shouldn't cry wolf."

The girl screwed up her face. "Is that meant to be a fucking insult or what?"

_Bitter, spiteful._ Luciente turned to move on, but the girl slid from her chariot and stomped her foot.

"Oh that's it, just walk away! Like you think you're better than me just because you're older and prettier!"

Luciente growled softly, tugging at Hyperion's arm to draw him onwards. She'd seen all she needed to see of this angry little girl.

"At least I'm not a criminal!"

Hyperion paused, glancing over at her.

"Yeah, that's right, we all saw you at the reaping!" Angry tears welled up in her eyes. "I might have been a mess but at least I wasn't in a prison uniform!"

Hyperion growled under his breath.

"So it's not like you've got any right to go off looking at me like I'm dirt; I'm not the criminal or the freak going round growling at people!"

Hyperion punched her.

The scrawny little girl was thrown backwards and flung across the floor, and they were surrounded by Peacekeepers in a heartbeat. One of them swung their baton for his head and he ducked it, pulling Luciente sharp behind him.

"Don't move! Hands where we can see them! What's going on here?"

_Do this, do that, good doggie._

A woman with pink hair had rushed over to Twelve's fallen tribute and was fussing around her.

Hyperion curled his lip. "My fist slipped."

Luciente gazed at the Peacekeepers around them. Most were taller than her, Capitol bred most likely, though many were less muscular than Hyperion.

"There is to be absolutely no fighting between tributes before the Games begin."

Oh, and what were they going to do to them? Kill them slightly sooner than the arena might?

Luciente curled her fingers around his wrist, squeezed it hard.

A soft, low, humming noise filled the air.

"You will come with us to return to your station."

That humming sound grew louder, shriller, and several of the Peacekeepers began to rap their hands on the right sides of their helmets.

"You will remay-"

The shrieking reached a painful crescendo and many of the Peacekeepers let out cries of pain, struggling to wrench off their helmets so they could rip out glowing blue devices fitted around their ears. Those that were having trouble getting the helmets off (including the Commander), doubled over, scrabbling against the buckles. A number of the other Peacekeepers in the area began to jog towards them, but as soon as they neared those on the outskirts of the circle they began to double over too or back off, clutching to their helmets or trying to rip them off.

Hyperion pulled Luciente round in front of him. "Let's go back to our chariot."

The tributes from Eleven had made it back to their chariot, and the girl was stood, staring wide eyed, at the frantic Peacekeepers. They continued on to their own station and the large dark wood chariot with its chestnut horses. Up ahead, the girl from Five was speaking to the boy from Nine, who

was wearing a golden dress of some sort, with a crown of wheat perched on his dark brown hair, by his chariot. He spotted them as they approached and waved them over. "District Ten, right?"

"That's us," grunted Hyperion.

He leant around him to squint at the Peacekeepers. "What's going on over there?"

Hyperion shrugged.

"Nice tail," said the girl from Five.

"This coming from Little Miss Sunshine," he snapped back, looking the girl pointedly up and down. She was dressed as what looked like a miniature sun, in a long golden dress with lights strung over her chest and down her skirt and a large, pointed headdress.

"Touche dog-boy."

"We're wolves, apparently."

"Looks like coyotes to me," said the boy from Nine.

"See, that's what I said."

"You two are siblings, right?" asked the girl.

"Yes."

Her gaze flickered between them briefly. "Are you looking for an alliance?"

"Are you offering?"

She shrugged. "If you like."

"We'll think about it."

She gave him a thin smile. "Don't think for too long dog-boy."

"Wolf," Luciente said absently, pulling at Hyperion's arm.

"I still say you look like coyotes," said the boy from Nine as they left.

The little girl from Eight had arrived, wearing a soft yellow dress that looked like the same material as the boy's suit and crying softly into her balled hands. Luciente gave her a sweet smile as they passed, but Hyperion could see exactly what she had her eyes on.

Fuck, he could punch her sometimes!

The girl from Seven was half naked, quite literally. Her lower half was wrapped in a brown skirt that looked a little like stylised tree roots, but it was almost like they'd decided not to be bothered with the rest of her costume, spray painted her brown, and left it at that. She was leaning against her chariot, gasping for air and shaking.

The boy from Five was stood by his chariot, dressed to look like… a crescent moon, Hyperion was pretty sure. That would make sense with his District partner as the sun.

"Hi!" chirped Luciente.

He blinked and looked up at them. "Um. Hi?"

"You're from Five, right?"

He glanced at his chariot. "No, I'm just hanging out here for fun."

Luciente smiled. "We're District Ten."

His gaze jumped to Hyperion. "Yeah, I- remember."

"What's your name?"

"Nathaniel. Nathaniel Volkner."

"Nice to meet you Nathaniel Volkner."

They were interrupted by a voice blaring from somewhere above them. "ATTENTION TRIBUTES! PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR CHARIOTS AND AWAIT LAUNCH."

"Nice to meet you too," mumbled Nathaniel as Hyperion pulled Luciente away and back towards their own chariot.

The girl from Nine had joined her District partner and was dressed to match, her hair loose down her back with flowers woven through it. She had climbed into their chariot already, looking down at them curiously as they passed.

"ATTENTION TRIBUTES. MOUNT YOUR CHARIOTS. REPEAT, TRIBUTES MOUNT YOUR CHARIOTS."

Luciente sprang up into their chariot, wrapping her fingers around the handrail. Hyperion stepped up behind her.

"ATTENTION TRIBUTES! LAUNCH WILL BEGIN IN ONE MINUTE."

Hyperion squared his shoulders and glared at the metal roller doors at the front of the warehouse. Luciente glanced over the girl from Six and the little boy from Five. The boy from Nine glanced back at them and raised his eyebrows. They didn't meet his gaze.


	16. Chapter VIII: Glittering About the Grave

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

Thank you Celtic and SongofFete for your reviews last chapter! Also, Celtic, nope, Hyperion had no qualms punching a twelve year old.

* * *

The roller door slid open, letting in the noise and screams from outside. Up ahead, the District One chariot began to move. If anything, the screams from outside only got louder.

Everyone loved the Careers.

District Two began to move. Behind her eyes Luciente saw the familiar silver shimmer of ghosts and fairies. Unsurprising, given where they were. There should have been more around. Perhaps they stayed in their arenas. It shot like a bullet towards the District Two chariot, coyote shaped, leapt over its side easily and closed its jaws clean around the girl's throat.

And then it was gone.

Luciente ran her tongue over her own jagged prosthetic fangs. The girl from Two was bigger than her, taller, broader, better fed.

But sometimes fate had other plans.

The District Three chariot rolled out and their own jerked forward, slowly beginning to move. Up ahead the District Four chariot left the warehouse to renewed cheering. The boy had been dressed up as - well, Luciente wasn't sure what the boy was dressed as. He had a tail like the fire girl, but hooves had been fitted over his hands and a large white horse head melded over his own.

Soon enough their own chariot was approaching the doors, the District Nine chariot rolling out ahead of them. They both stood tall and confident, waving out at the crowds around them.

And then it was their turn.

The screams and cheering that had been fading since District Six seemed to renew as their chariot rolled out. The stands surrounding the road were packed with bright figures, screaming and cheering. Hyperion laid his hand over Luciente's. For a moment the cheering muted and the stands were half-empty, deserted and haunting. A black shadow hung over everything, and those that were present were gaunt, thin faced and hollow cheeks, with huge, empty eyes.

Then the sound returned and the light was dazzling. Hyperion looked at her. She shrugged. "Things that might be."

Objects rained down around them, mostly confetti and flowers but also some more expensive things like coins and rings that clattered against the chariots as they rolled forwards. Around them the Capitolites screamed and cheered. Some waved in an attempt to catch the attention of the tributes. Some of them, like the pair from One, the girl from Two, and the pair from Nine, waved back. The girl from Two even managed to catch a rose thrown her way, licking it and then stuffing it down the front of her armour. Others, including Hyperion and Luciente, simply kept their gaze fixed firmly ahead.

They rolled on down the boulevard and at last reached the large circular courtyard they had only ever seen on TV screens, where their chariot slotted into place beside the chariot for Nine. On their other side the District Eleven chariot rolled up beside them. The girl was holding the boy's elbow to steady him as he rocked in his heavy black armour.

President Eldrich, a tall, platinum blonde woman in a long, flowing blue dress, stepped out onto the balcony. For a split second she looked sickly, pale in the light of the cameras. A moment later she was back to her usual prim and proper self. Hyperion flinched slightly, rubbed his temple.

"She's going to get sick," Luciente whispered. "Or she could do."

_Will do, could do, might do._ There were no certainties.

"People of Panem!" called the President. "Esteemed citizens of the Capitol and residents of the Districts! This year we celebrate the Ninety Fourth Hunger Games as a reminder to the Districts of the Capitol's power! I, as President of Panem, give thanks to the Districts of Panem for sending these tributes to compete, and offer thanks to the tributes for your noble sacrifice. And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

The crowds screamed around them. The chariots circled the courtyard one last time before pulling into the large metal doors of the Training Building.

They jumped from their chariot while it was still moving, landing with an agile nimbleness and quickly moving aside for Eleven's chariot as it rolled past. At one end of the warehouse-like space they had entered the Career tributes were gathering, pouring scorn onto those from lower Districts. The girl from Five strode over to the Nines' chariot, giving them a questioning look. Luciente inclined her chin. St Clarance scurried towards them, waving his arms excitedly. "Well done, well done! They love you!"

Hyperion was sure they did. They'd love it even more when one of them died and left the other heartbroken.

"Do you want to speak to any of the other tributes?"

Luciente gazed across the hall as Nathaniel was greeted by his escort and Arielle Wayne and her District partner were met by their prep team.

"No," Hyperion replied.

* * *

They were led from the warehouse space into a long, shiny corridor with an elevator at the end. The pair from Seven and their escort were already waiting by it. The doors slid open and they were herded inside. St Clarance pressed the button marked 'District Ten.' The escort for Seven looked them over and nudged the boy from his District. "You could make worse allies."

"No," Luciente and Hyperion said at the same time.

Seven's escort frowned. "Not open for allies?"

"Not with them," Hyperion replied as the elevator stopped at Seven's floor. The three from Seven stepped off.

Luciente smiled. "They're going to die."

The doors slid closed.

* * *

"You know, you're going to have to learn to be a bit more polite if you want to make allies," St Clarance blustered as they arrived at the floor marked 'District Ten.' A large '10' was printed on the wall outside the elevator.

It felt like they were nothing but a number.

"You can't go round telling people they're going to die! Unless you want to go for a threatening angle." He stopped and looked them over. "Hmm. Perhaps that could work for you two." He eyed Hyperion. "Yes, yes, that could definitely work." He opened a large, extravagant silver door and strutted into the apartment beyond.

"She wasn't threatening them. She was telling them the truth."

* * *

**Author's Note**

There isn't a massive amount of detail on the tribute costumes during the parade because we saw a lot of them last chapter.


	17. Chapter IX: The Doomsday Children

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

They woke in the room marked 'District Ten Female.' The bed was softer than any they had laid on and the sheets were silk. The room smelt sugary sweet. A banging came on the door.

"Up up up," squeaked St Clarance from outside. Luciente groaned and windmilled her legs against the sheets.

"You can't be late for your first day of training!"

Well, they _could_, Hyperion considered. They'd never particularly been ones to care for societal norms and expectations. And being late to the first day of training would make an impact.

"And be fun," Luciente said.

Hyperion smiled.

St Clarance banged on the door again five minutes later.

This time they got up.

_Go here, do this, go there._

* * *

They took turns taking long, hot showers. The hot water was a commodity they might never have again after the next five days. Luciente stood under it with her eyes closed and watched the sword slide through the neck of the girl from Three.

She dressed in the clothes that had been laid out for her on the red cushioned stool, a set of black trousers and a green t-shirt, along with supple black boots, all of which were emblazoned with the District Ten seal. _Branded, marked, owned. _Like cattle.

Hyperion had been given identical clothing. They sat at a long table laden down with more food than they could eat. Luciente nibbled at the fruits and bread while Hyperion helped himself to pieces of meat to go with his meal.

"You should eat more," Holden scolded.

"No point in stuffing ourselves," Hyperion grunted back.

* * *

They finished their breakfast in a stilted kind of silence that the mentors occasionally attempted to break only to go ignored and left to brush their teeth, returning to the common room to find St Clarance busying around.

"There you are, there you are. Come along, we must get down to the training centre."

The two of them fell into step behind him as he led them down to the elevator. The pair from Eleven were already aboard, along with their escort. The boy glared at them – suspicious, uncomfortable, Luciente judged – but the girl offered a smile.

"Good morning."

Hyperion grunted a reply.

"You're the pair from Ten, right?"

"Heaven," muttered her District partner.

"I- I'm sorry they're making you two go in together."

Hyperion found Luciente's hand behind his back, wrapping his fingers tight around hers. "I'm not."

They were together.

They had each other.

And he trusted in Luciente when she said they would be free.

The elevator stopped on the floor labelled 'TC' and the mirrored doors rolled open, revealing a large, well lit hall. In three places staircases led upwards, and a further two ladders vanished through the ceiling. Evidently there was something upstairs, Hyperion judged.

Roughly two thirds of the tributes were already there, stood in a loose semi-circle in the centre of the room. St Clarance led them over to take their place beside the District Nine tributes, while the pair from Eleven were to stand on their other side. The boy from Nine gave them a hopeful look and a raised eyebrow. Eight's tributes arrived a few minutes later, shortly followed by Three and Seven, which completed the group.

In a month's time, Hyperion considered, twenty three of these teenagers were going to be dead.

Luciente had yet to tell him if that number included them, only that they would be free at last.

A man with strict purple hair took the floor in front of them. He was tall and hard and lean, with violent amber eyes.

Luciente's shoulders tensed slightly.

"My name is Tiberius Oxam, and I am the Head Trainer here at the Training Centre." He strutted from side to side, taking long, luxurious steps. "While you are in training here there will be absolutely no physical altercations between tributes under any circumstances." He gave them a grim smile. "Save it for the arena."

A few of the Career tributes gave sneering laughs, and the girl from Two twisted her mouth into an awful kind of smile.

"Reckon it's a bit late to be telling that to Ten over there!"

Her District partner and the boy from One laughed. The girl from Four glowered at them. _Anger_, Luciente recognised, _fire and resentment and rage._

"Now, you will find the layout here is very simple. The first floor contains stations for physical and combat activities you might find yourself facing, while the second floor contains survival stations. Remember that both are equally important to survival in the arena."

The boy from One gave an audible scoff.

"The Training Centre is open twenty four hours. You can spend as much or as little time here as you want. Just remember to eat and sleep as well. If you have any questions feel free to approach any of the trainers in the hall. There are four compulsory exercises, but everything else is individual training and you may spend as much or as little time on a station as you wish. Feel free to go and get started at your desired stations!"

He swept away to one side of the hall. The tributes exchanged anxious looks and quickly began to scatter. The Careers met up by the sword fighting station, Hyperion noted, while most others vanished upstairs. The girl from Five – did she give a name? – raised an eyebrow at them as she followed the boy from Nine up the staircase on the far right. He turned to offer Luciente a questioning look, but she was already trying to tug him off towards a door set into a large pane of fuzzy, distorted glass. What was even the point in that?

* * *

The room, as it turned out, was a swimming pool.

They had paddled before, in the black ponds of the outskirts, but never truly swum. Luciente paced the water's edge, glaring at it as though it might jump up and bite her. Hyperion was the first to join the trainer in the water, trying to both take in his instructions and ignore his patronising praises. Luciente slid in after him, paddling awkwardly, struggling to keep her head above the water.

"Well, it's a stroke," said one of the trainers timidly.

"It could be a style," agreed the other.

Luciente flashed them her teeth.

* * *

They spent nearly two hours in the pool, eventually being joined by the boy from Three and the girl from Seven. The girl gave up after only fifteen minutes, with an exasperated groan and a slap to the water. The boy persevered, taking frequent breaks on the pool's edge.

"You're a natural," one of the trainers gushed, even though a 'natural' was copying the coyotes and paddling in the shallow ponds when the moon was high.

"It won't stop him dying," Luciente said as they left the pool room and she watched his blood stain the water red.

* * *

They stopped by the slingshot station for the next two hours before lunch. Both were a sharp shot with a sling shot, and there were several of different designs intended to throw more lethal projectiles. They chose round, weighted projectiles for the time being and tried to pretend they were training rather than having fun as they drove shot after shot into the targets. Once upon a time he had been the better shot, but then he had been taken away for three years and she learnt to defend herself, making them now roughly equal in aim, though he could put far more power into his shots.

"We should train with them again," he said as they sat to eat lunch.

"Why? Do we need it?" Luciente asked.

"We need to show them we're good with them, so they include them in the arena," he replied.

"Hm."

"And we should practise with other weapons as well, just in case."

* * *

Still, they left weapons for later in favour of heading upstairs to the survival stations after lunch. Small groups of tributes were already forming around a few of them: Arielle from Six was at the foraging station with the girl from Three while her little District partner was trying to build a fire with the boy from Three; the girls from Nine and Eleven were at a snare building station, as was the girl from Three, and the boy from Nine was with the girl from Five speaking to a trainer with hot pink hair.

They found Nathaniel at a station for building traps, weaving one together with wire.

He looked up at them. _Surprised,_ she read, _and afraid._ Ducking his head, he went back to work on his trap.

Luciente smiled. "You don't need to fear us. I like you Nathaniel Volkner."

He frowned. "Is this your way of asking for an alliance?"

Her smile widened. "See Hyperion, he's clever."

"Why?"

She tipped her head. "Because I like you."

"You know I'm going to die, right?"

"That doesn't mean I can't like you."

He creased his brow a little further. "You're weird."

"Do you want to be allies?"

"I- I guess so, if you're offering."

Luciente sat down beside him. "Good. And you should do that like this."

* * *

They spent a long hour working at the trap station with Nathaniel under the eye of the trainer.

"Can you swim?" Luciente asked.

"Swim? I- No."

"You should learn."

He eyed her. She smiled. "As part of joining our alliance."

Nathaniel nodded. "Sure."

* * *

They took him down to the swimming pool and spent the rest of the afternoon there. Luciente was determined that he would be able to paddle, even if he couldn't properly swim.

Hyperion was beginning to believe she _knew_. It would hardly be the first time.

* * *

Nathaniel left as evening began to draw in, whispering a goodbye and vanishing into the elevator.

"What is it about him?" Hyperion asked, though sometimes there was no fathoming with Luciente. She only smiled.

"I like him. He has a good heart."

He led her over to the knife station. The trainer hurried out to meet them. "Training late are we?"

Hyperion grunted a reply.

"Well, there's always some. Come, I'll show you what you need to know. Knives are the easiest weapon after all."


	18. Chapter X: Against Logic

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

The girl from Five and boy from Nine approached them the next morning as they headed back to the knife station. They had decided to practise with the slingshots only when there were fewer tributes about.

The fewer that knew their preference, the better.

The tributes who could surprise often did better in the Games. Already from watching Hyperion knew the boy from One and the girl from Four preferred swords, while the girl from Two liked knives, the boy from Two bows and the boy from Four a spear. The girls from Nine and Eleven both seemed to prefer scythes, while from what they had seen of the other tributes they would likely favour knives.

"You asked for an alliance with Nathaniel," said the girl from Five.

"Yes."

"We'd like to join our alliances," she continued.

Hyperion glanced at Luciente.

She gave a slight nod.

He consented.

They might never be friends, but there was safety in numbers, and coyotes needed a pack.

"Can you swim?" Luciente asked.

* * *

The boy from Nine, Azrayk, could, but the girl from Five couldn't and appeared to be actively afraid of the water, which, if Luciente was right (and she normally was) didn't bode well for her. They spent much of the morning trying to at least get her into the water and become buoyant.

After that they moved on to the spear station, where they practised launching the weapons into the soft targets. Hyperion and the girl from Five, Shelley, were proficient, but Nathaniel proved to be too small to effectively handle the weapons, while Azarayk struggled to aim and Luciente disliked them. They spent the rest of their morning there, learning the basics of close combat from the trainers and driving them into the targets.

* * *

They sat together at lunch, taking the opportunity to look around the hall and see who appeared to be together or in some sort of alliance.

The tributes from One, Two, and Four, had formed the usual Career pack, though it looked tense. The boy from Two didn't seem to want to talk to anyone, his District partner kept trying to use him as clothing, and the girl from Four was spending her time glowering at all of them. She and her District partner were sat at the very end of their table, and Luciente could recognise anger in the girl even now.

The boys from Seven, Eight, and Eleven were sat close, though it was unclear whether they were allying.

The pair from Six were sat chatting with the boy from Three. Luciente wanted to tell the girl not to waste her time and let her gaze linger for a long moment, studying the ghostly crown decorating her hair.

The girls from Three, Nine and Eleven appeared to be in an alliance, sitting at the end of one long table.

Lastly, the girl from Eight and the pair from Twelve were alone, scattered across the hall.

Obviously, the Careers were the biggest threat, but if they lived past the bloodbath those three girls could be a challenge as well. Then there was Six's maybe alliance with the girl who would be Victor.

Luciente sipped at her water and watched the world around her.

* * *

They separated for the afternoon. Shelley and Azaryk wanted to continue working on their combat skills, while Hyperion chose one of the simulator rooms to practise in and Nathaniel had decided he wanted to try out the agility maze. Luciente joined him, since it was one of the compulsory stations. He would come if she needed him, and she would go if he needed her. All that time alone hadn't changed that.

The boy from Four was at the agility maze, listening to a spiel by the trainer there.

"Ah! Here's another two! Here to try out the maze are we?"

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. "No; we just happened to end up over here by accident."

The boy from Four managed a slight smile. _Shy_, Luciente understood, _nervous, fearful._ She thrust her hand out like people were meant to do when they introduced themselves. "Luciente."

He started and blinked at her. "Me?"

"Do you see anyone else here Four?"

"I- No." He reached out to take Luciente's hand. "Aros."

For a moment his face was crimson with blood, tears of red trickling from his eyes, and then it was gone. She withdrew her hand.

"You're from Ten, right? With your brother?"

She nodded.

"I'm sorry they've done that to you."

Nathaniel huffed. "I'm going to run this maze with or without you."

She offered Aros a bare toothed smile and a sharp nod, turning to follow Nathaniel into the maze.

It was child's play, really, thin walkways and swinging obstacles combined with rope ladders and fake tree branches leading up to rocking rope bridges and rails suspended high above the floor, so high they were held at the same height as the second floor.

The boy from Four was quick and agile, but he rocked unsteadily as he climbed the branches and clung, pale faced, to the rope bridges, wobbling on the balance rails with his arms outstretched. It was painful to watch, really. This kind of thing was easy; it didn't need to be as difficult as he was making it, clumsy and unnatural.

Nathaniel was careful and steady, though he still faltered a little on the balance rails and held too tight on the bridges. Luciente crouched on one of the beams, waiting for him. "Stop thinking and feel it."

"What's that meant to mean?"

"Close your eyes."

"But I won't be able to see where I'm going!"

"You'll be able to feel it."

Nathaniel closed his eyes, feeling forwards with his hands for the next rail. "This is stupid."

"You're thinking too much."

"You're crazy."

Luciente tipped her head. "Don't you feel it?"

"Feel-" His hand missed the next rail by a good shot and the momentum shift threw him off balance. He cried out, flailing for a handhold, missing, and tumbling sideways from the thin rail bridge, hitting the net suspended below.

There were a few laughs and jeers from the boys from One and Two. The boy from Four flushed red and winced. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Nathaniel rolled onto his back. "Thanks for nothing Luciente."

She began to climb down to meet him. Before she went, she noticed the boy from Four had closed his eyes.


	19. Chapter XI: Ripples in the Sky

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

Celtic, to clear things up from last chapter, yes, Luciente's speaking about the girl from Six. She's not clear because she's rarely clear.

* * *

Hyperion had chosen to head to the simulator rooms while Luciente and Nathaniel were at the agility maze. The boy from One and the girl from Two were already there, apparently flirting and laying bets on who could last longest in one of the simulations. Hyperion stepped around them to frown at the control.

"Oh look," said the girl from Two. "Hoping there might be some more twelve year olds in there for you to beat on Ten?"

Hyperion grunted. She folded her arms across her chest and leant against the wall, kicking one leg up behind her. "So what did you do? Y'know, to get yourself…" She waved a hand at him. "Locked up."

"None of your business Two."

"Oh, but I was just curious." She leant forwards, angling herself towards him. One shoulder of her training shirt was slipping downwards and gaping out, giving a very clear view of what was underneath. "Listen. I saw you at the spear station yesterday. You looked pretty tough." Her gaze flicked over him and she licked her lips. "Still do."

He looked her up and down. Luciente hadn't given him her reading on this girl, but he could use his own.

"We could do with more people in our alliance." She shot a sneering look across the hall at the agility maze, where the boy from Four was with Luciente and Nathaniel. "We need men there, not simpering little boys." She pressed a hand to his chest, leaning in so close he could smell whatever Capitol sweetness she had washed her hair with. "What do you say?"

He clicked the button marked '_simulate._' "Fuck off Two."

She jerked back as though he'd smacked her and tossed her head, her ponytail bouncing with the motion. "Fine; be like that." A wicked smile twisted her lips. "Good luck to you and your sister in the bloodbath."

He took a step towards her. "If you so much as touch her-"

She held her hands up as several trainers along with two Peacekeepers began to move towards them. "Ah ah ah. We wouldn't want to cause a scene. Save it for the arena Ten." She glanced over at the agility maze again, where Luciente was now perched high atop one of the balance bridges, waiting impatiently for Nathaniel. "I'm sure we'll have plenty of time then. C'mon Damon."

Hyperion watched until they were back at the knives station and then clicked the button to enter the simulator.

The simulations appeared to be randomly generated, first shimmering and glowing around him to create a vast desert, and then a dusty forest, and then a crumbling city. At the start of each simulation he was delivered a pack, each time containing a few different supplies. Shadowy mutts stalked amongst the trees and slithered under the sand.

It was unnervingly realistic.

Luciente found him still there after two hours and joined him for next round, gazing around at the rocky mountains with her pale eyes. "This is wrong."

"It's a simulation."

"It's wrong."

He led her up into the mountains. The simulation must adjust for their movement, he figured, because the room was nowhere big enough for all the ground it felt like he'd covered. The simulation room was cold this time round, and they both shivered in their training clothes. The rocky mountainside seemed to shudder and ripple around them, streaks of electronic blue and white running through it. A mutt reared out of nowhere, a great white thing with four huge limbs and a head like a snake. It lunged towards them, looming, and then there was a dreadful crack and the simulation room cut to white.

There was a hiss as the door opened and the poofy blue haired trainer rushed in. "What did you do?"

Luciente stared at the spot in front of them where the mutt had been and scowled. "I don't like this place."

He followed her out.

* * *

"Bunny's suggested a truce for the bloodbath," Azrayk said, glancing back at where he'd just left the girls from Three, Nine, and Eleven at the foraging station.

"Which one's Bunny?" asked Shelley.

Azrayk rolled his eyes. "My District partner."

Luciente gazed over at the girls. The girl from Nine was tall and tanned, with brown hair twisted into a bun.

Shelley frowned. "What's in it for us?"

"Three less tributes trying to kill us at the cornucopia for a start."

"I'm down for that," said Nathaniel.

"I'll talk to her."

Shelley huffed and flicked a strand of brown hair from her eyes. "Maybe we should all talk to them. You know, so we know who we're meant to not be killing?"

Azrayk nodded. "Good idea."

They met with the three girls in a shadowed corner of the training centre. Around them, the grunts and rattles from the other tributes echoed around the hall. The girl from Three was a year younger than Luciente but a head shorter, thin and wiry, skin and bones. _Dead girl walking_, Luciente understood as she watched the silver knife slide across her chest.

"We've agreed we'll truce with you for the bloodbath," Azrayk said.

The girl from Eleven beamed, wide and genuine. "Oh, thank you thank you thank you!"

"No worries. So we won't attack you guys if you don't go for us."

The girl from Nine, Bunny, glanced at Hyperion. _Unsure, untrusting. _Luciente smiled, but that only seemed to make her shudder. _Pussy._

"We would be willing to hold the truce until the end of the third day if you would."

"That wasn't being offered," Hyperion rumbled. If Luciente was to live (_and she had to live, she had to_) she had to die. If he had the chance, he'd break her neck himself. One less tribute in their path.

"I'm offering it now. I mean, I don't know about you guys, but having to kill people isn't exactly something I want to do."

She would make a poor coyote, Luciente thought. She didn't have it in her, unlike Nathaniel.

"Then that's your problem," Hyperion said.

She gaped at him. Azrayk stiffened and even Shelley looked a little startled. Only Nathaniel seemed unphased.

"If you're not in my way, I won't kill you at the bloodbath Nine. I make no other promises."

* * *

Later, she found him up on the roof. She always knew where to find him. It had been turned into a garden for some reason. It was too neat, really, too perfect, too pretty, to ever be real. She made her way around the flowers to find him sat on the edge of one of the flower beds, gazing out over the Capitol. He wasn't in a cell any longer, but he was still trapped, locked away in this new hell. She sat at his side, digging her fingers into the dirt, and watched as the sun went down.


	20. Chapter XII: Storm Warning

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

They took supper with their mentors that night and returned to the training hall after most of the other tributes had left. Only the boy from Twelve, who was working at the traps stations, and the girl from Four, who was swordfighting with a trainer, remained. Luciente spared the boy a glance and hissed softly through her teeth as he tugged as his snare trap and it shot upwards with a whoosh.

Hyperion moved to take to the spear station. They were one of the easier weapons to use.

_Stick them with the pointy end_, Hyperion had said, stony faced, earlier in the day.

Luciente, however, stopped to watch the girl from Four as the trainer fought her into submission again, pressing his sword to her chest. She stumbled to the sidelines, panting, to grab a bottle of water. _Pissed._

She jumped as she noticed her there, scowling. "What do you want?"

There was wildness in her. Not the same way it was in them, but it was there all the same, anger and spite and rage.

Luciente took one of the long, light swords from the rack. "Teach me how to do that."

"And why would I do that?"

"It wouldn't be a very Career-like thing to do, would it?"

The girl gave her a long look before screwing the cap back onto her bottle and slamming it down onto the table so she could step back onto the mat.

Luciente smiled.

She couldn't learn to swordfight in an hour, but that wasn't the point.

The point was right in front of her, all fire and anger.

"Luciente," she said, once they were finished and gulping down water on the sidelines.

The girl from Four looked her over as though considering it, and then shrugged. "Ilenia."

* * *

Once she left, she rejoined Hyperion. The boy from Twelve had long since gone, so they were free to spend an hour and a half practising with the slingshots. Some of those here were designed to take sharpened projectiles or even shoot arrows.

A step up from their handmade tools back home.

She wasn't so good with the arrows, but she soon got the hang of driving the sharpened projectiles into the target with dull thunks. It wouldn't be one fired to take the life of the boy she glimpsed behind her eyes though.

"Do you want her?" Hyperion asked, sliding one of the large, heavy arrows into his slingshot.

"Who?"

"The girl from Four."

"Ilenia," she replied, rolling the 'I' sound off her tongue.

Hyperion grunted.

"She's got a wildness in her."

Not like them; never like them, but all the same.

"She could be free."

Hyperion set the slingshot down, took her hands. "We're tributes for the Hunger Games Luciente. This isn't freedom."

She squeezed his fingers tight. "You used to have more trust in me."

He leant forwards, knocked his forehead against hers. "I do trust in you. But I wish you'd tell me what this freedom was."

Her gaze flickered up to the top of the station, where a shiny black camera was watching, and then to the trainer on the sidelines. He sighed. "Point taken. Just leave the girl from Four. She's a Career."

Luciente laughed softly. "She's not."

* * *

They climbed up to the roof again that night, though it had long since gone dark, and curled up in the tamed plants and prickly thickets. The girl from Twelve was up there, though she ran off when she saw them. It was a shame Hyperion disliked her so; she was wild too, but bitter and angry and upset. Luciente sunk her fingers into the soil and gazed out at the dazzling lights of the Capitol. For a moment they seemed to ripple and shimmer, and she saw a city half dark, the streets illuminated by flashing blue and red, and then the world rippled again and the dancing colours and spotlights were back.

Hyperion shuddered.

She squeezed his fingers. "Things that will be, could be, might be."

Nothing was ever certain. These things could be changed, if you made different choices, but sometimes the choices you made were the best at the time.

"You can only corrupt the natural way so far before it starts fighting back."

"And what happens then?"

It was a question he didn't really need to ask, because he'd already worked out the answer, long ago, years ago. He'd had years to think, years locked up, hacking up meat and chopping firewood, jogging endless circles. There were some things they had never and would never be able to put into words, things they had no need to put into words, things that were best left unspoken, like Ariel's big pale eyes and the way he had only needed one good look at Nathaniel in person to know why Luciente wanted him.

_What happens when too far is far enough?_

Luciente slid to her feet, padded over to the edge of the roof. She had felt it last night, but this night the moon was high and bright and full, and she felt it more, the soft breeze and the ache deep inside her.

"A storm builds."


	21. Chapter XIII: What We Love the Most

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

CHAPTER WARNING: Swearing.

* * *

"Have you thought about what you want to show the Gamemakers during your Private Sessions tomorrow?" asked Meadow in the morning.

Neither of them had.

"We'll think of something."

"You need to be aiming for around a seven or an eight. Too low and the audience won't take you seriously; too high and the Careers will take you too seriously. Hyperion, I recommend you show off that strength of yours. Axes, maybe, or a broadsword. Luciente… maybe survival skills."

Luciente never even looked at her.

"Then there's the interviews. Now, you've really already written your angles..."

* * *

There was a very uneasy feeling to these so called allies of theirs in the morning. He didn't need to be her to feel it.

"Is it true?" Nathaniel asked a little bluntly.

"What?"

Shelley rolled her eyes. "You have heard what they're saying about you dog-boy?"

"We were wolves. Why should we care what they're saying?"

Nathaniel turned a strange shade of red. "They're- uh- they're saying- Hyperion-"

"Spit it out already."

Nathaniel took a step closer and tugged him aside to the wall. "They're saying you- um- fuck Luciente."

"The fuck did you hear that?"

"Solana," Nathaniel replied unhelpfully.

"Who the fuck is Solana?"

_And where was she so he could kill her?_

"My mentor. But it's going round the entire Centre. I think most people have heard it. Not sure where it started."

Luciente slipped her hand into his. He squeezed it tight. She gazed gazing across the training centre at where the Careers had gathered around one of the weapons stations. The girl from Two was draped across the boy from One today, and looked up to smile at them as he nudged her.

"Rumours can't hurt us," Luciente said softly.

No.

They'd heard worse than that.

Demon children.

Evil spirits.

Monsters.

But this world made monsters out of them all.

* * *

Shelley insisted on them doing a round in the simulator, which she had discovered the evening before, as an alliance. It formed itself into a jungle around them, and delivered a spear, two knives, and two canteens of water.

They pushed their way through the surprisingly real feeling trees, which shimmered and flickered around them, violent shudders of blue and white and orange that only worsened the longer they remained in the simulator.

"It feels scary real," said Azrayk.

"In two days it will be real," replied Shelley.

A figure in black combat training appeared from the trees in front of them, holding a loaded bow. Luciente scowled and hissed through her teeth. The figure fired, streaks of orange flying through their figure as they fired the arrow. Shelley dove aside, while Azrayk rushed forwards with his knife. The room flickered brighter around them, once, twice, three times, and then it was white again.

Shelley laid on the floor, apparently dazed. "What the fuck just happened?"

"I guess we lost," said Nathaniel as the door hissed open and the blue haired trainer frowned at the room.

"Damn it, another one?"

They filtered from the room. Shelley was saying something about trying again, and Luciente growled through her teeth.

In the true Games, only one of them would be coming out as Victor.

If Luciente was right – and she usually was, Hyperion thought – it wouldn't be any of them.

* * *

They separated again for the morning. He took to the climbing wall – harder now that he was so much bigger than he used to be – while Luciente sat down to help Nathaniel and Shelley at the traps station.

Although he was bigger, less agile, and more used to trees than cliffs and walls, his body still held the instincts and there was a sense of knowing where the ridges were without needing to look. He clambered up, dimming out the din of the training centre around him, and swung himself onto the platform at the top.

The boy from Two was there, his arms rested across his knees, gazing down at those below. "You shouldn't have left her."

He didn't need to ask who 'her' was meant to be. "I'll know if she needs me."

"And if you don't know soon enough?"

Then she would care for herself, as she had while they had been torn apart. She had claws and fangs of her own. He'd rather be there at her side- but if needs be…

"Then she can care for herself."

"You should hold onto her better. These things don't last forever."

_A storm builds._

"Nothing lasts forever."

The wall had been crumbling. If they'd got there sooner, they could have torn down the bars holding them and fled into the darkness. They could have been free, instead of facing a caged death match.

_You used to have more trust in me._

And what did this boy, this stranger, know of them? Holding onto Luciente was like trying to cling to water in your hands, feeling it trickle away through your fingers. He knew she would always come back to him, but she would never be chained.

"Then if you love her, you'll make it quick."

He remembered the anger so hot he couldn't breathe, blood on his hands.

"She's pretty. I bet she'd scream."

He'd known her all his life, all hers, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever heard her scream. They had grown angry, but never scared, vicious, but never fearful.

"Shut your mouth."

"Would be fun to cut her open. What colour does she bleed?"

Hyperion yanked on the ridiculous harness the fucking trainer had insisted on buckling them into and wrenched the boy forwards. He gave a yell and brought his hands up, scrabbling against the ledge they were on and making some attempt to push back against Hyperion. The two of them grappled for a moment while trainers and Peacekeepers yelled from below. The boy from Two scrabbled for his neck, trying to wrap his fingers around it. Hyperion yanked again on his harness, wrenching him sideways, and shoved him hard off the edge of the wall.

A moment later there was sharp, dazing pain in his head as one of the Peacekeepers whacked him with their baton and he was looking down the barrel of a stun gun while the boy from Two dangled by his harness, clutching for the wall. One of the trainers hurried to pull him up, while two of the Peacekeepers pulled Hyperion to his feet.

"You've been nothing but trouble Ten."

Oh, and what were they going to do to him? Shoot him here and now before the Games began? The Capitol audience would hardly be pleased. Luciente was at the foot of the wall, he noticed, gazing up at them.

The Commander jabbed his gun into his chest. "Tread carefully."

Hyperion curled his lip as he was marched down the metal stairs behind the climbing wall. Two of the Peacekeepers seized his arms and slammed him hard against the wall. The Commander pressed his gun into his stomach. "Listen here Ten. I don't care what you do in that arena. I don't care who you do it to. But here in this Training Centre, you're going to follow the rules." He flicked the safety on his gun back. "Am I clear?"

"Very."

The Peacekeepers released his arms. The Commander cast him one last look. "Save it for the arena Ten. Then you can commit whatever murder you want."


	22. Chapter XIV: Fractured Futures

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

They ate lunch together again and talked strategy. As the strongest fighters, he, Luciente, and Azrayk intended to run for the cornucopia to collect supplies. The others would take what was around their podiums and run in the direction the tail end of the cornucopia was pointing.

On paper it was Shelley's plan. It was convenient that she wouldn't be one of the ones endangering herself, but often enough plans never made it past paper. One or more of them could die in the bloodbath. Hyperion worried for Luciente's precious Nathaniel, and Shelley wasn't a strong fighter either. They could be separated, or unable to get supplies, or-

"I think we should consider the cornucopia being in water," he said bluntly.

Shelley rolled her eyes. "What is it with you two and the water and the swimming?"

"I think we should consider it," he replied with a glance at Luciente. She'd never been wrong yet.

Azrayk shook his head with a grin. "What is this, some sort of 'it has been foretold' thing?"

Luciente frowned slightly. Hyperion kicked his chair back. "Your choice."

Luciente followed him from the canteen.

He could feel everyone watching their backs as they left.

* * *

They worked a circle around the Training Centre, watching the other tributes at their stations. Woodland- they could only _hope_ for woodland, but if the arena was _water_ – blood in the water, blood on her hands, in her mouth, trickling down her throat-

If the arena was in water-

And yet the water called to her.

She dreamt of it last night, deep, black depths, ice cold, and it pulled on something deep inside her, and she didn't know what it was, but it was _important_.

She held Hyperion's hand a little tighter.

The pair from Six were sat at the foraging station with the pair from Three, sorting berries into piles. Luciente leant over Arielle's shoulder, picking up a familiar bunch of red berries. "These are usually inedible."

"Oh. Thank you."

"The guide says they're edible if needs be," her District partner piped up. "And I think competing in the Hunger Games is needs be!"

Hyperion shrugged. "If you want to die while you're shitting your guts out, suit yourself kid."

The boy blanched and tossed the berries aside, sending them skittering away from the station. He wouldn't die of poison berries anyway. Few tributes did these days. He'd die of a blade through his chest.

"How are we ever meant to remember all this?" he whined. "All this fruit is so cool, but there's so much of it!"

Arielle sighed. "We do the best we can. Thank you Luciente."

Luciente gave her a bright smile and tugged Hyperion onwards.

The girl from Twelve was cursing and swearing at a tangle of wires that Luciente supposed was meant to resemble a snare trap, if snare traps resembled a knot of wires wrapped around the girl's hand. Her eye was mottling yellow – it had healed too fast, Capitol medicine.

"Fuck off," she snapped, glaring up at them.

They left her to it.

The girls from Three, Nine, and Eleven were at the insect identification station. Luciente had skimmed it over the day before; Hyperion hadn't bothered. _Insects. Click click. Silk and stickiness. Click click. _The girl from Nine gave them a funny look; the others were busy. _Blood in the water._

* * *

They stayed late again, past most other tributes leaving, and again she found Ilenia at the sword station. She'd never be much good at swordfighting, she thought, but Ilenia would be good at being wild.

"Wasn't there anyone to volunteer for you?" Ilenia asked as they finished, unscrewing the cap of her water bottle. "I mean, I understand… him, but surely…"

Luciente smiled and finished her own water. "It was my time."

* * *

"Are you sure?" he asked that evening as they stood in the rooftop garden.

"Nothing is ever sure," she replied, light from the dying sun playing across her face.

"But you believe it? The arena will be something to do with water?"

"Blood in the water."

Blood on her hands, in her mouth, running down her throat; blood on white crested water.

"But that could mean anything!"

He was right of course. Nothing was ever sure. Nothing was ever certain. _Blood in the water. Click click._ _Kaboom._ But she _knew_, and he should have more trust in her _knowing_.

"You changed," she said. "While you were in there."

"I had to."

"I don't like it. Trust me."

"I do trust you. I just need to know that you're sure."

"I'm always sure," Luciente replied, and the light faded from her eyes as the sun vanished beneath the horizon.


	23. Chapter XV: Chains of the Dead

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

St Clarance woke them early the next morning, banging on the door and shouting. "Come on, come on, get up up up! You need to be ready in an hour and there's so much to do!"

Luciente looked at Hyperion.

He looked back and deliberately closed his eyes.

They napped for another five minutes before St Clarance came charging into the room to pester them.

"You can't still be sleeping! You have your Private Sessions this morning, and then you must be prepared for your interviews this evening."

Of course.

Interviews.

Joy.

That was going to be the hardest part.

They were hunters, scavengers, creatures from the shadows, and tonight they were going to have the eyes of the nation on them.

What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

They showered slowly, and ate breakfast slower, wearing their soft training clothes.

This would be their last day.

Tomorrow they would be launched into the arena.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, kids would start dying.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, they might die.

Tomorrow.

It was close, too close, too close, and there was nothing either of them could do to stop it.

Luciente smiled. "You should worry less. All will be fine."

They were going to be free.

* * *

St Clarance bustled them from their apartment and through to a waiting room off the side of the training hall. Most of the other tributes were already there; the pair from Two and the boy from Twelve were not. They took the chairs labelled for them and waited.

Once the three remaining tributes arrived, a man with shocking blue hair and purple eyes came out to speak with them. "Tributes of the Ninety Fourth Hunger Games! You are to wait here until your name and District are called. Once you enter the hall, you will have ten minutes to impress the Gamemakers using any skill you possess. The scores you receive for this may help or hinder your sponsorship."

"Yada yada yada," muttered the girl from Two.

"Wait here until you are called through."

* * *

The boy from One went first, five minutes later, and swaggered out ten minutes after that, a smirk plastered across his face.

Next was the girl from One. She was an odd one, when they'd seen her in training she barely seemed to know how to hold a weapon despite being a Career.

The boy from Two was called through after her.

They were in for a long wait.

As tributes entered the hall and came out to leave those waiting shifted, clustering into their alliances. Shelley and Azrayk spoke quietly, but he and Luciente remained quiet, as did Nathaniel.

Finally Nathaniel was called in. He came out looking anxious and uncomfortable. Shelley was next. That left them with just Azrayk.

"You know they're going to ask during the interviews," he said.

"Ask what?" Luciente replied.

"How it comes that both of you got reaped. I mean, I'm not saying they rigged it, but… What are the odds?"

The odds were low.

The odds had always been low.

But the odds had always been there, too, and this had always been coming.

* * *

Azrayk was the last of their allies to enter the hall, coming out again less than ten minutes later. His District partner was next, and then it was his turn.

She gave him one last smile as he stepped through the doors.

He didn't spare the Gamemakers a look, instead heading straight for the spears and stepping into the ring with the trainers.

He lost, but that wasn't the point.

Done with that, he selected one of the weaponised slingshots.

The projectiles drove deep into the target, shot after shot.

There were a few murmurs.

He slid one of the arrows into place. Luciente had grown better with these over the last three days, but he could still fire straight. The first shot drove deep into the stomach of the dummy used for spear practise. Not what he was aiming for. The second hit true, driving through the skull.

There were a few wide shots, but more flew true, driving into the dummies time and again.

Finally the buzzer went off and he was dismissed. She took his place. Unlike him, she did not go for the weapons. Or the survival stations. She sat down, square in the middle of the training hall, crossed her legs and closed her eyes.

After a few minutes a speaker came to life. "Miss Ripley, you are required to show the Gamemakers a selected talent."

She didn't even flinch.

Her time passed, and the buzzer dismissed her.

* * *

St Clarance guided them both back to the District Ten apartment. "You'll see your scores this afternoon. You need to be preparing for the interviews."

They followed him back up to the District Ten apartment.

Neither of them spoke.

It felt unreal, he thought, but then half their life had felt unreal, like they weren't quite here, weren't quite like other people, ghosts like the ones she saw sometimes, trying to navigate a society not quite intended for the likes of them.

* * *

Meadow and Holden had already spoken about the interviews and what they thought would be best. Apparently the Capitol already knew what it wanted from them, and they were expected to dance to the tune.

She would not, but then she rarely did anything expected or demanded of her.

"Play up your killing of him. Be confident, smile," Meadow said.

"But absolutely don't tell them all the bloody details. That'd be a way to get yourself cut off," Holden advised.

As if he wanted to tell them all the bloody details.

Most days and nights he didn't want to remember how it felt himself, the crunch of bone, the warm coppery wetness of blood splattering across his face.

"They want to see you as a monster. Make yourself human."

That was going to be a problem.

They weren't human.

They were ghosts, coyotes, wild animals screaming at the moon.

Meadow moved on to Luciente. "Now, you're going to have an easier time of it. All you have to do is show them yourself, and how much you love your brother. You're not afraid of him, which means people are going to want to see love and devotion and tears. Remember, this is your best shot to earn sponsors."

"We're not going to perform for them like fucking puppets!" he snapped.

Meadow smiled. "What do you think the interviews are? They're a performance. You play the game, or those that will get favoured over you."


	24. Chapter XVI: Echoes of Sun and Wind

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

Meadow and Holden gave them as many preparation questions as they could. Luciente curled up on the sofa and watched the tribute recaps, while Hyperion did his best to mimic her airy indifference. The recaps started from the reapings, showing clips of each tribute on stage, at the train station, during the parade, and during training.

Finally, as the clock turned to half past three, the two commentators appeared on screen. They weren't sure what their names were and they didn't really care.

"Well folks, this is what you've all been waiting for! The training scores for the Ninety Fourth Hunger Games are in!"

Meadow and Holden joined them on the sofas. "Right then. Let's see what you've got and what you're up against."

"Dead people," Luciente said.

Holden frowned at her. "I do wish you said less creepy things when you decide to speak."

"First up, from District One, we have Damon Newbury with a score of ten!"

An image of the boy from One appeared on screen as he sparred with four trainers at once, his sword blurring around him.

"Next is his District Partner, Nike Arellano!"

An image of her holding a bow appeared in the bottom corner.

"And she got a score of seven!"

A glowing white seven whirled around her before both her image and that of her District partner shot up to the top of the screen, floating there.

"In District Two, we have Cairn Aphelion with a score of eleven! Would you look at that? That boy is going to be one to watch! Then we have his District partner, Livia Dolabella, with a score of ten."

"Nice high scores for Two as always," said the female presenter.

"Those are going to be your biggest threats," Meadow said.

Luciente gazed at the image of the girl, knife fighting with a trainer, and remembered watching the coyote rip her throat out.

_No_, she thought, _she wouldn't_.

The tributes from Three got a six and a four respectively. Meadow simply sighed and shook her head. Three had been doing badly since before they were born.

"And here's District Four! We have Aros Curran with a score of seven!"

An image of the boy appeared on screen, launching a spear into a dummy.

"He was the one that was reaped," Holden remarked.

Luciente shifted and watched as Ilenia's image appeared on screen.

"Ilenia Costello from District Four, with a score of eleven!"

"I think someone's trying to compete!"

"I do, I do."

The images were whisked away to the top of the screen.

"Next up let's go to District Five! First up we have Nathaniel Volkner with a score of four!"

"That's not a good start," muttered Holden.

"And Shelley Fisher with a score of six!"

"Average."

Luciente watched Nathaniel's image on screen as he struggled through one of the survival quizzes. It was a low score, but Hyperion trusted her judgement, and she wanted the boy.

Next up was District Six, and he saw her interest peak.

This was her precious Arielle.

"First up from District Six we have Wylie Cooper with a score of four!"

The boy from Six was scaling the climbing wall in his recording, scrambling up with his hands and knees.

"And his District partner Arielle Wayne with a score of six!"

"Average. And Six hasn't had a Victor in years," Holden said.

"They've got one now," Luciente replied, her gaze watching Arielle in one of the simulator rooms.

The pair from Seven got a six and a five respectively, and from Eight there was a pair of fives, and then it was District Nine's turn.

"First up from District Nine we have Azrayk Blaze with a score of seven!"

"Not bad for an outlier."

"And Abundance Harper with a matching score of seven!"

Holden nodded approvingly. "Nine's got a good pair this year."

"And now we've got our siblings from Ten! I know everyone's been looking forward to this one! First up we've got Hyperion Ripley with, would you look at that, a score of eight!"

His image appeared on screen, fighting with the spear. Evidently they had decided not to show the slingshots. Holden slapped him on the back. "Good going kid!"

"And for his sister – oh, what a contrast – a score of one!"

Meadow choked on her water. "One? What did you do?"

Luciente shrugged, watching herself on the screen. "Nothing."

From Eleven came a five for the boy and a six for the girl, and then from Twelve an eight for the boy and a three for the girl.

"He could be a tough one," Holden said.

Meadow was still fixed on Luciente. "One! What are you meant to do with a one? All you had to do was hit an average."

Luciente simply sat and watched the tribute scores on screen stack up. The Careers were highest of course, but Hyperion was just beneath them.

He was strong, fierce, wild.

They were more than numbers.

* * *

They were given barely twenty minutes to consider the scores and watch the odds on screen before Valentino and Luxuria, Luciente's stylist, came to bustle them away.

"Let's get you ready for this evening!"

Luciente cast Hyperion one last look over her shoulder as she was steered away to a large dressing room. A mannequin was stood on a small pedestal to the right. For a moment a faint ghostly blur shimmered behind it, a thin girl with blonde hair, last year's female, and then she was gone and it was just the two of them again. Luciente was unsurprised and yet not. There should have been more ghosts here in this place of death. What was keeping them away?

Luxuria waved a hand at the mannequin. "This is what you will be wearing tonight."

Luciente looked it over. It was pretty enough, she supposed, though not very practical.

"First we need to get you cleaned and prepped."

Luciente felt like she had showered – and been showered – more in the last five days than she had her entire life. She wanted to bite this woman, to run free with her pack-

But if she wanted to run free, she needed to not bite.

It was still tempting though, and she grit her teeth as she sat in the chair.

For a half second she saw the woman as thinner, paler, eyes sunken, lips white.

There was no need to bite.

She would get what was coming to her.

* * *

It took nearly two hours to prepare her for the interviews. She had to be showered, and have her hair washed with some sweet smelling soap and then twisted up in curlers, and have makeup painted across her face and skin.

Only then did Luxuria see fit to put her in the dress, lacing it up behind her back. It was tight around her chest and flowed down to her ankles. Luxuria slipped a pair of glittering black shoes onto her feet. "There. You look lovely."

Luciente thought she looked like a stranger. She bared her teeth at her reflection, but it didn't help. Luxuria tutted and clicked her tongue. "Don't scrunch up your face like that! Smile; show them how beautiful you are!"

Luciente bared her teeth at her.


	25. Chapter XVII: Neon Dreams

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

And here we go with the interviews! A big thank you for all the reviews so far!

* * *

All twenty four tributes were seated in seats to the left of the stage behind a large pane of dark glass to wait for their interview. The girl from One, who was wearing a partly see through silken white dress that she did not look comfortable in, was first. She spun a pirouette on stage and spoke animatedly with the interviewer, Shearra Sunstar.

"And can I ask what we can expect of you in the arena Nike? I can call you Nike can't I?"

She giggled. "Of course can. But Shearra, I can't go telling you my plan! You have to do the opposite of what people expect of you!"

"Oh of course, of course!"

The audience screamed and applauded as she pranced off stage.

"Nike Arellano everybody! Next up we have Damon Newbury!"

Damon, the boy from One, was wearing a blindingly garish silver suit, his shaven blonde hair shining with glitter.

"He looks like a disco ball," Azarayk muttered.

On stage, Damon laughed and flirted with Shearra, batted his eyelashes for the audience, and flexed his muscles for the cameras.

"Make no mistake, I'm here to win this," he said, leaning sideways towards Shearra. Luciente wrinkled her nose.

"And what drives you to that?"

He laughed. "Destiny."

The girl from Two had been dressed in a low cut, high skirted black dress with tall silver heels. She crossed her legs at the knee and ankle and leant forwards with her elbows across her knees.

"This is something I've always wanted to do. It's a way to prove myself." She raised her gaze to the cameras. "I'm more than worthless."

Shearra laughed. "And who is there cheering for you back home?"

"My parents."

"Why don't you tell us a little about them?"

"Well, my mum has always wanted me to train, and my dad just wants me to be my best self." She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, which were sharply highlighted in red. "And my friends of course, they're all waiting for me."

"I'm sure you'll make them proud."

She smiled. "Of course I will. I'm one to watch out for Shearra; don't doubt that."

Her District partner had been dressed in a black suit, looming ominously over the stage. For a moment she got the impression he should be _cold_; colder than anyone or anything had right to be, impossibly cold-

And then it was gone and he was introducing himself as Cairn Aphelion on stage. She shuddered. Hyperion squeezed her wrist.

"Things that might be."

"Now Cairn, you volunteered. Would you like to tell us about that?"

"I suppose I must have just been the best."

Echoes of darkness trailed around him, cold, rippling. There was something else with him as well, someone else, a ghost, a girl, dark haired like him, covered in blood, but she couldn't get past the traces of shadows, beaten back every time. Her mouth opened and closed in a silent scream, her hands beating at her shoulders. Luciente extended a thought to her, but the cold stung her back and the girl fell away, ice tears slipping down her cheeks.

"Yes; and that was quite the training score you received," Shearra said. "Would you like to tell us about it?"

He shook his head. "You'll have to wait."

"Well, we'll all be expecting big things from you, won't we everyone?"

The audience screamed. She tugged at Hyperion's hand. "We need to make sure that one dies."

He squeezed her fingers. "Happily."

"And how do you feel, knowing that you're going to be entering the arena tomorrow?"

"I suppose some people would say it's fucked up to do it. But to those people, I say we're all fucked up. Some of us are just better at hiding it."

The girl from Three was a small, wiry thing in a soft blue dress that made her look younger than her sixteen years. She tried to keep her head up and give shaky smiles.

Her District partner, a small, thin, dark haired boy, was holding back tears. He kept his head down and whispered his answers. It was painful.

Ilenia wore a sharp black pantsuit with a white undershirt, her dark hair twisted up into thick braids.

"Now Ilenia, I have been told that it was in fact your brother who was reaped last year, except of course he had a volunteer."

Ilenia scowled, and the fire raged hotter around her. "That's right Ilenia."

"Could you tell us a little about him?"

Ilenia seemed to flinch, glaring out at the cameras. "I'm doing this for him. He deserves better; we all do."

"What do you mean by that Ilenia?"

Her scowl deepened. "The Capitol says its rule protects the Districts. That we're all safe under it."

"Well we are, aren't we folks?"

The audience laughed and cheered their approval.

"No," Ilenia growled, "we're not. Every year – every week – people in Four are dying because no one's upholding the law!"

A deathly hush fell over the audience.

"According to my research, your mother was killed in a rebel attack orchestrated by a group later executed by Peacekeepers upholding the law."

Ilenia leant forwards in her chair. "If they were upholding the law, why didn't they stop the attack in the first place?"

"No operation is perfect."

The fire in her burnt hotter and her wildness screamed. "I'm going to make sure all of those fuckers who didn't protect people that needed them burn!"

The buzzer went off, loud and violent. One of the Peacekeepers stepped forwards to usher Ilenia off the stage.

Azrayk whistled softly. "Beat that."

Luciente smiled and watched the screen as Ilenia took her seat on the tribute balcony and her District partner was led out. He was wearing a soft green shirt and black trousers, his hair slicked down, and looked deeply uncomfortable as he took the chair at Shearra's side.

"Aros, Aros, it's good to see you!"

He managed a smile. "It's good to see you too Shearra."

"And I must say, don't you look smart in that shirt?"

He tugged at his collar. "Thank you."

"Now, Aros, why don't you tell us a bit about yourself?"

She saw him steel himself, try to look confident.

"Well, a lot of people underestimate me because I don't look strong."

"Aw, I'm sure that's not true. How about you folks?"

There were screams and whoops and cheers from the audience. Aros blushed pink, and she saw those cheeks splattered crimson by blood. By this time tomorrow he'd be dead.

"Thank you Shearra. I think anyone can be a threat in the right circumstances. Even me!"

There were a few misplaced laughs at that. Of course, anyone could be a threat, if the situation was right.

"We look forward to seeing it!"

Aros managed a smile. ""Strength comes in many forms and everyone has different skills."

"Very true, that's very true. Isn't it folks?"

Another round of applause came. They loved him, especially after the fire shock that was Ilenia.

But that wouldn't stop him dying.

"Do you have any final remarks before you have to go?"

He gazed out at the audience. "No one should be underestimated in these games, including me."

Shelley was next. She wore a floor length, ruffled, orange and peach dress with a dropped neckline, her brown hair piled up in a twisted bun. She spoke a little of her home and family, and then moved on to say a little about their alliance. "Yeah, I'm allying with Nine and Ten this year. And little Nathaniel of course."

She said the name as though it was poison.

"And what do you think of your allies? You're an interesting bunch this year."

Shelley shrugged. "We work together just fine. I mean, I wouldn't tell him, but Hyperion's a little scary."

Luciente smiled. The audience laughed.

"But I can work with most people."

"That's good to hear."

Nathaniel was wearing a soft blue suit that made him look about six, and looked to be less than pleased about it.

"Now of course, you're one of our youngest tributes this year Nathaniel! How do you feel about that?"

He shrugged. "Just because I'm little doesn't mean I'm harmless."

"Well said! And I'm sure you have a family back home, don't you?"

"My mother and sisters."

They spoke a little about his family, and then she bent the conversation back round to his alliance.

"What do you think of your allies?"

Nathaniel smiled. "They treat me like I'm no different from anyone else. They wanted me for me."

No.

She wanted him.

Azrayk and Shelley had been dragged along, but she wanted Nathaniel and they could go drown for all they were really worth.

"That's good to hear Nathaniel."

And then it was Arielle Wayne's turn.

Her stylist had done a lacklustre job really, dressing her in a soft yellow dress with the skirt shorter at the front than the back. Her chestnut hair had been curled and styled around her face, framing her pale skin. She looked pretty, but she wasn't a standout.

She was allying with her District partner, Wylie, she told Shearra, and the boy from Three. They would die and leave her alone eventually, Luciente thought, but there was no telling Arielle that.

Wylie was next, wearing a vivid purple suit with a lime green tie. Luciente wasn't overly keen on the colour combination, but maybe it was style here in the Capitol.

"Wylie! That is quite an outfit!"

Wylie (was that his name?) grinned widely. "Thank you! Isn't it great?" He tugged at the hems of his jacket, flapping it out. A few laughs came from the audience.

"I'm sure your stylist is glad you like it!"

"Oh, I hope so!"

Wylie laughed and Shearra smiled. She asked him a few bland questions about himself and he babbled on about his family.

"I'm going to do my best to make my brothers proud of me!"

There were 'aw's and hums from the audience.

"I'm sure they'll be proud of you no matter what."

"I hope so!"

"How have you enjoyed your time here in the Capitol?"

"Oh, it's awesome! And you have so much food!"

"Do you have a favourite food?"

"Fruit!"

"Any particular type of fruit?"

He frowned for a moment, shook his head, and then said 'fruit!' again. There were a few laughs.

"Well, you enjoy your fruit! Wylie Cooper ladies and gentlemen!"

He received some applause, and hurried off the stage trying to keep smiling.

"We have officially seen half our tributes ladies and gentlemen, so before we move on to District Seven, we have a short break! Please, feel free to stretch your legs and refill your beverages, and we'll return shortly!"

* * *

I've broken the interviews up because they ran super long compared to all my other chapters. Next chapter will continue!


	26. Chapter XVIII: Light up the Sky

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

Seven was next, and the girl was wearing a floor length green dress, with green ribbons threaded through her hair. She was nervous on stage, Luciente thought, fidgeting and unable to make eye contact.

Her District partner wore a blue suit and fake, nervous confidence.

District Eight was much a repeat of District Three. The girl was dressed in a pale pink frock and painfully shy, two years older than Nathaniel in age but years younger in confidence. Her District partner, although older, was quiet and sat stiffly.

Azrayk's District partner was next, dressed as though she was trying to blind people in a golden brown suit with flashy gold mirrored shoulders. She was anything but flashy though, quiet, and speaking with a steady kind of determined confidence.

"Now Abundance- can I call you Abundance?"

"Most people call me Bunny."

"Bunny then. Tell us Bunny, who do you have cheering for you back home?"

"My mother," she replied. "I know she's waiting for me. And my older brother Storm. I'm not going to let them down."

"We sure hope not, don't we ladies and gentlemen?"

A few shouts and calls came from the audience, though it was nothing like the support of earlier interviews.

"I have heard that you're rather handy with a scythe."

"I've been working with one since I was thirteen, so I'm pretty at ease with them."

"That is impressive, isn't it folks?"

Bunny managed a smile as the audience cheered.

"And of course, we heard from Bethany earlier that you're allying with her and Heaven from Eleven this year. Would you like to tell us anything about that?"

"Well, Heaven's also pretty good with a scythe, so we bonded over that. And Bethany's better with technology and information. So we all balance each other out pretty well. We might not stand out, but it's always the quiet ones you have to watch."

Her buzzer rang.

"We'll have to keep that in mind, won't we folks? Abundance Harper everyone!"

The audience cheered her off the stage and Azrayk on. He had clearly been dressed to match Bunny, in a bright gold suit that seemed to glow under the stage lights.

"Azrayk, it's good to see you!"

"It's good to be here Shearra!"

"Now Azrayk, you were a volunteer! Would you like to tell us why you did that?"

"Well, it was my brother Ezekiel that was reaped. I've always tried to make myself tougher and stronger, but he isn't very well prepared, so, well, I volunteered for him."

There were 'aw's and smiles from the audience.

"Oh, how sweet! It takes a special kind of person to do that, doesn't it folks?"

"I'd like to think that anyone would do the same honestly."

That was true. There had been a volunteer from Ten the year before last who took her sister's place, and two from Five the year before that.

"Tell me, because I'm curious, why is it that you want to make yourself stronger?"

Azrayk gave a smile. "Well, when I was young, I got into this stupid fight with one of my friends over a blanket."

There were a few laughs from the audience.

"Hey, don't be mean! You never know, that blanket might've just saved my ass out in the arena. See, I lost the fight, but I knew then I had to keep getting stronger so I wouldn't lose again."

"And how strong are you now?"

Azrayk held his arms up and flexed his muscles. "See for yourself."

Behind them, the little girl from Twelve spewed several curses. The audience screamed and whooped. His buzzer sounded.

"My word, what a show! Azrayk Blaze everybody!"

And then it was her turn.

She stepped out onto the stage, careful not to step on her skirt. Her dress was beaded white and silver at the top, slowly fading into grey for the bodice and darkening to midnight black for the skirt. It was also incredibly inconvenient, but that was neither here not there. The audience screamed and bayed and cheered for her, animals, but not wild ones.

And then for a moment everything was quiet.

The hall was half empty, the lights were dim.

Then it was bright again and Shearra was standing to greet her, holding a hand out.

Luciente looked at her, looked at her hand, and the screaming, the cheering, howling, baying, and slowly, deliberately, took her hand and bit it.

Hard.

Shearra screamed, yanking back away from her. Luciente smiled, licking the blood from her teeth. A pair of Peacekeepers sprinted onto stage to grab her arms and manhandle her into the interviewee chair, while a third rushed to Shearra. She was clutching her bloody hand to her chest, white faced.

Pussy.

"I'm fine. I can finish."

"You sure ma'am?"

"I'm sure!" She sunk into her chair, rubbing at her hand. A young woman with pale blue hair scurried out to duck down behind her chair and tapped her on the arm. Shearra thrust her hand out to the woman, who began to check the damage.

Luciente dragged a hand across her cheeks and lips. It came away red with blood and glittering with makeup. Shearra attempted to smile, hissing as what was evidently the medic sprayed something on her hand. "Well Luciente, you and your brother were certainly quite the surprise at your reaping! Everyone has been eager to meet you, although I would say rather them than me!"

Luciente smiled.

"The last time we had siblings in the Games was during the Seventy Second! How does it feel, being reaped with your brother?"

Luciente showed her her teeth, watching her flinch.

Pathetic fucking woman.

When the coyotes come, they'd all know what true fear is.

"Are you close?"

She growled softly, shifting on the chair. One of the Peacekeepers nudged her with the butt of his gun.

"You certainly looked that way at the reaping, didn't they ladies and gentlemen?"

A new round of cheering came. Luciente growled again, the sound rumbling in her throat. Let them think she was an animal, see what they thought of it.

"What was it like then, when you two were growing up?"

Wild, violent, free.

"He can't have always been in prison."

She growled louder, half for the show, half for the memories of him being taken away from her.

Pain.

Loneliness.

Anger.

Why could they not just be left free?

"How was your childhood?"

Childhood?

There was no _childhood_.

There was no real _freedom_.

She snarled, the sound tearing out between her teeth.

"I see. Well, if anyone has a translation for that, please do let me know. You certainly seem close, and we've heard from the tributes of Districts Five and Azrayk that you guys are all allying together."

No.

They were allying with Nathaniel.

The others were tagging along, skulking at the edges of the pack.

"How do you feel about that?"

Luciente looked up to Nathaniel on the balcony. Shelley next to him looked white and disturbed, and in the second row behind them Azrayk looked disgusted. She smiled. Only Nathaniel smiled back.

"That's good to know! Hopefully they know how to avoid getting bitten!"

The buzzer went off and Shearra nearly jumped out of her seat.

"Luciente Ripley everyone!"

The Peacekeepers seized an arm each and yanked her to her feet, frog marching her from the stage and up the steps to the balcony. The seat next to Azrayk was labelled 'Luciente Ripley.' She dropped into it. He shuffled towards his District partner slightly. Nathaniel leant back to peer at her. He tapped his cheek and mouthed 'you still have…'

Luciente smiled and dragged her fingers down her cheek and licked them clean of the blood. Azrayk shuddered and drew further away.

"Next up we have Luciente's brother, Hyperion Ripley everyone!"

Hyperion had been dressed in a matching colour scheme to hers, trousers that were black at the bottom, slowly fading to grey, and a shirt that faded from grey to white at the top.

Two Peacekeepers remained in position at either side of the interviewee sofa. Shearra didn't stand to meet him, nor did she hold her her hand out. Luciente smiled.

"Hyperion, it's good to meet you!"

He smiled and sat down without replying.

"As I said to your sister, you two have started quite the stir! Tell me, what does it feel like being reaped into the Games with your sister?"

"Reassuring."

"Reassuring? Oh, well, at least this one can talk ladies and gentlemen!"

There were a few laughs. Luciente growled, deep in her throat. The Peacekeeper behind her gave her a nudge and Azrayk edged even further away, now sat half on his District partner's chair. She frowned and gave him a shove.

"Has your sister always been so… feral?"

Hyperion flashed her his teeth.

"I'm going to take that as a yes folks!"

More laughter.

"At least you don't seem to bite as much as your sister. Now, of course we all saw your prison uniform when you were reaped. I've been informed that the reason you were imprisoned was because you were charged with the murder of your own father!"

A soft ripple ran around the audience. Hyperion said nothing.

"Could you tell us what circumstances could possibly bring that around?"

Hyperion leant forwards in his chair, towering over the tiny interviewer.

"He deserved it," Luciente murmured.

"He deserved it," Hyperion rumbled.

She was pretty sure Azrayk couldn't get any further away from her, despite all his trying.

"Would you care to say anything more about that?"

Hyperion bared his teeth in a rough sneer.

"That's a no ladies and gentlemen! I guess we'll just have to forever wonder!"

The buzzer rang out. The Peacekeepers hauled Hyperion to his feet and marched him to the balcony, shoving him up the stairs. He growled through his teeth and made his way up them to join her. The Peacekeeper took up a position behind him.


	27. Chapter XIX: Cold Fires

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

Districts Eleven and Twelve were left, and they were boring compared to everything that had come before. The girl from Eleven had been dressed in a pale blue gown that glittered like the sky, her hair clipped back away from her face.

"Heaven, you look wonderful!"

"Thank you! Isn't my dress beautiful?" She twisted from side to side, the skirt swishing around her legs.

"It certainly is! What do you think ladies and gentlemen?"

There was a little polite applause.

"How have you found your stay here in the Capitol?"

"Oh, it's amazing! It's so beautiful here! And if I want anything, I can just ring a bell and have it delivered!"

"It sounds like you've enjoyed yourself!"

"Oh, I absolutely have!"

"A little birdie told me that you're also pretty good with a scythe."

"Oh, yes. I need to use one for my job back home. Bunny does too, so that's how we ended up allying!" She grinned up at the balcony. "Bunny's pretty cool."

'Bunny,' at the moment, was frowning at Azrayk and leaning sideways towards the boy from Eight in some attempt to clear space for herself.

"And who is there for you, back home?"

"My parents, my little brothers. And Robyn and Louisa. They're my friends."

"I'm sure they'll all be cheering for you tomorrow."

"I know they will." Heaven shifted, adjusting her skirt and sucking in a deep breath.

"I'm scared, I really am, but I have hope I can get back to them. If I give up that hope, I'm as good as dead."

Her buzzer rang. Two Peacekeepers stomped to the edge of the stage to show Heaven off.

"Heaven Jonas everyone!"

There was some applause, but it was scattered and spluttered.

The boy from Eleven was forgettable, tall, lanky, and uncomfortable under the cameras.

Finally it was District Twelve's turn.

The girl was wearing red – it had been a theme for Twelve for a few years now – and it didn't really suit her, reflecting off her olive skin in an odd light.

The remaining mottled bruising from her black eye had evidently been disguised with makeup, and red glitter sparked around her grey eyes.

She stomped out scowling, her shoulders stiff and her hands balled into fists, one clutching a handful of fabric from her dress.

"Tamika, you look adorable in that dress."

_Adorable_ was the wrong word for it really, but Luciente supposed she had to play for the cameras. _Always_ play for the cameras.

"Thank you," the girl managed. She was forcing herself not to cry, Luciente understood, holding her chin high and trying to put on a brave face.

"Come, come, sit down! Are you enjoying your time here in the Capitol?"

Tamika screwed up her face. "I'm waiting here until I can die; why would I be enjoying it?"

"Well, why don't you tell us what your favourite thing here is?"

"Learning to kill people is pretty useful I guess."

Luciente smiled. Oh, it was _so_ a shame Hyperion didn't like her.

"So you've had fun in training?"

Tamika jutted her chin out. "I wouldn't call it fun. I just want to go home."

"And who is there for you back home?"

Tamika shrugged. "My friend Fainne. I'm not close with my parents."

There were a few noises of sympathy from the audience.

"I'm sure they'll be cheering for you anyway, right folks?"

A few claps and shouts came, but most people seemed to just be getting bored.

"I'm not counting on it."

Neither were they, Luciente thought. Little Ariel would be watching, but she saw the truth with those eyes that were so much like her own.

No.

They were all that they had.

They were the same.

Shearra spoke to the girl from Twelve a little longer, but she only began to shake, her eyes welling up with tears and her shoulders shaking. The Peacekeepers escorted her off stage as her District partner was called up.

She shuddered. She'd felt it before, but for a glimmer of a moment she felt it more than ever now.

He was _cold_.

Not echoes and whispers and could bes and might bes like the boy from Two, but _cold_, like all the heat and life and love had been sucked from him.

He wore a black suit and red shirt – matching themes, of course - and a foul smile that didn't reach his eyes. Luciente could see him tearing away the front of the shirt to the skin underneath. She peered around Hyperion to the girl from Twelve, clicking her tongue in an attempt to get her attention. The girl from Eleven gave her a frown. She pointed at Twelve. Eleven shook her head and gave her a puzzled look.

She pointed at Twelve again. Eleven huffed and reached over her District partner to tug at the other girl's shoulder. "Twelve. Ten wants you."

The girl leant forwards with a scowl to look over at her. "What?"

Luciente pointed at the boy on stage and made a questioning face. "That boy is bad vibes."

Twelve glanced at him, shuddered, and shook her head. "I know."

"You know anything about him?"

The girl opened her mouth, but one of the Peacekeepers prodded her with his gun, another jabbing his at Luciente. Twelve sat back in her chair, folding her arms tight across her chest.

Finally, after the boy from Twelve was brought up to join them and one last camera pan was cast over them, the interviews were over and a curtain fell in front of them. Their escorts and mentors, along with a large number of Peacekeepers, arrived to guide them away.

Luciente pulled off her shoes as they walked, carefully edging over to get closer to the girl from Twelve. "You know anything about him?"

The girl shot her District partner a look. "Why d'you care?"

"Investigate your enemy."

The girl shrugged again. "There are rumours. Not that anyone's ever cared. No one does."

"Rumours that say what?"

She glanced up at her, and then back at Hyperion, and then over at her District partner. "He likes pretty girls," she whispered, lowering her voice. "Least I'm safe. But they say he… well, there's been…"

"This way Lilah, this way!" squeaked St Clarance. She took another look at the boy from Twelve, the _coldness_ winding its slow way around him. She shuddered, feeling her lip twitch instinctively.

The Peacekeepers marched them back to their apartment.

* * *

"You _bit_ Searra!" Meadow shrieked as soon as the door was safely locked. Luciente shrugged. Her mouth still tasted faintly of blood.

"What were you thinking?"

"I mean, it did make an impression," Holden muttered.

Meadow gave him a death glare.

"Of all the stupid, crazy, _idiotic_-"

"She can't un-bite her," Hyperion grunted.

Meadow stared at him.

"Did you have anything useful to say or were you just going to scream? Because we've got a long day tomorrow and would like to go to bed."

It might be the last time either of them ever had a soft bed.

He was going to enjoy it.

Meadow sighed heavily. "It was a damn stupid thing to do, and I just can't understand for the life of me _why_ you would want to."

"She did give her her hand."

"For a handshake! Not to bite!"

"I just hope it doesn't count against you tomorrow."

Holden smiled. "They'd be fools to make it do. These two are crowd favourites; everyone wants to see you perform."

Hyperion growled. "We're not performing puppies."

"No. Most puppies grow out of the biting stage."

* * *

They retreated to his room and stripped off the pretty clothes, piling them up in the clothes basket. She showered first, washing out her hair and scrubbing the makeup and blood from her face while he waited outside. He spent a long while stood under the hot water, simply enjoying the luxury. It might be their last time, whatever happened. He was going to make it last.

Once she was fresh and clean, she padded over to the door. He followed.

They slipped from their apartment and took two steps towards the elevator before finding themselves confronted with a pair of Peacekeepers.

"Return to your apartment."

"We're going to visit the rooftop."

"I want to see the girl from Twelve," Luciente said rather unhelpfully.

"You are to remain in your apartment until tomorrow morning. If you refuse to comply we will be forced to act."

_Go here, do this._

"We wanted to see the sunset."

"I want to see the girl from Twelve."

"You're not helping."

"Return to your apartment."

"Please?" Luciente asked.

The Peacekeeper clicked the safety off on his gun.

Hyperion took her arm and tugged her away towards the apartment. She growled softly but still allowed him to lead her back through the door. They retreated to his room and stripped off the pretty clothes, piling them up in the clothes basket. She showered first, washing out her hair and scrubbing the makeup and blood from her face while he waited outside. He spent a long while stood under the hot water, simply enjoying the luxury. It might be their last time, whatever happened. He was going to make it last.


	28. Chapter XX: Tagged

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

They slept side by side that night, bundled up in the blankets, and when she woke him growling and kicking in her sleep he simply rolled over and returned to sleep on the other side.

How many times had his cellmates complained about him doing that?

* * *

Morning came, golden light beaming through the window and a banging on the door.

"Up up up! Today's your big day!"

Luciente growled in her waking moments. Hyperion stretched, kicking back the blankets. St Clarance bustled into the room. "Come along come along! You only have two hours!"

Two hours.

Luciente knew all was going to be fine, but the nerves were still there.

They were still going into a death match.

"I recommend you shower, and wear something comfortable, and come and get some breakfast. You'll be taken out in the hovercraft in two hours, and launched this evening."

Luciente growled softly.

"So we need to have you two up and fighting! Let's see it!"

Luciente sat up suddenly, a blur of rapid motion, and sprang across the bed with a snarl.

St Clarance shrieked and backed away to the door. Luciente giggled. "He's funny."

* * *

The scare did at least get the escort to back off, and they both took long showers and dressed in the clothes that had apparently been left out for them the night before.

They found Meadow and Holden already in the common space, eating breakfast. The two of them dropped into the empty chairs and filled their plates and bowls with small amounts of bread, fruit, and oatmeal.

"You two ready for today?" Meadow asked.

Holden laughed. "They're never ready Meadow."

"Now, I know you want to run in to the cornucopia for supplies. If I can't change your mind on that, I just want to say try not to get in a fight with any Careers."

Holden snorted. "That one's obvious."

"Don't fight them for supplies, just let it go. You two seem… resourceful, I'm sure you could live without."

That was true.

That was very true.

If the arena was woodland, the arena was _theirs_, just like the woods back home belonged to them and the coyotes.

Hyperion gave a sharp nod. Meadow cast Luciente a look. "And try not to eat your meat raw."

* * *

Once they had finished eating, St Clarance bustled them from the apartment. Meadow and Holden walked with them to the long, silver corridor that they remembered went back to the chariot warehouse.

"Well, this is where we leave you."

Hyperion nodded. At the other end of the corridor the pair from Four vanished through the door. Holden clapped him on the back. "See you on the other side kid."

* * *

St Clarance hurried them down the corridor to where a bored looking girl with bubblegum pink hair sat at a desk.

"District Ten, Hyperion and Luciente Ripley."

Her gaze flickered briefly over Luciente and she tapped at something on the screen. "You're in. May the odds be ever in your favour."

Hyperion snorted.

The odds were not in their favour, that was half the problem.

That was how they had ended up in this situation.

Except-

Maybe at the other side there was freedom, and that was worth chasing.

St Clarance hurried them into the warehouse. It was open, and a large silver ramp led up into the belly of a hovercraft. "Here you are! Up you go, and good luck now! I'm sure we'll see each other on the other side."

Hyperion was sure they would never see each other again and glad for it.

Luciente was growling again.

St Clarance scurried away rather hurriedly.

* * *

Four peacekeepers appeared to load them onto the hovercraft, marching them to seats labelled with their District and Gender. Half the seats were still empty, but Hyperion could see he was going to have Luciente on one side and the girl from Twelve on the other. Gretchen and Ryan would be opposite them.

Capital assistants hurried around helping them buckle their straps and making sure everything was locked for the ride. The belt buckle glowed green once it was fastened.

At the top of the hovercraft the Careers were laughing and joking over something. At least someone was having a good time.

Slowly, in pairs or groups of four, the other tributes arrived and were brought aboard, being quickly steered into the seats labelled for their District. Azrayk and his District partner (Rabbit?) were amongst the last. He eyed Luciente with a healthy amount of scepticism. She smiled, displaying her teeth, and watched him shudder.

"We can't rely on him," she said.

"He'll betray us?" he asked.

She smiled slightly and shook her head. "He's too afraid."

He couldn't match her, couldn't match Hyperion, couldn't even match Nathaniel, and eventually that would cost him. They couldn't rely on him, but then they couldn't rely on anyone. She had Hyperion, and back home she had Ariel, and now she had Nathaniel too, but there was no one else to rely on, no one else to be trusted.

* * *

Finally all twenty four tributes were aboard the hovercraft. A woman with pale blonde hair stood at the head of the craft. "We will be taking off shortly in three minutes. Please remain in your seats during the trip."

"Because there are so many nice places to go aboard this beautiful ship," muttered the girl from Twelve.

There were a few snickers from some of the other tributes. The Capitolite retreated as the ramp slid back into the ship and the doors hissed closed.

Hyperion glanced around the hold.

In twelve hours, some of these kids were going to be dead.

In twelve hours, he might have killed some of them.

The hovercraft lurched, humming around them. The sound vibrated through his feet. Some of the tributes spoke, but others simply stared blankly ahead, waiting.

They were being shipped to their deaths after all.

* * *

Four Capitalites came along the tributes. Two were avoxes, passing out water and thin wafer biscuits. The other two were men in white coats who were giving each tribute a shot in their arm. Luciente took a paper cup of water and sipped at it. The man stopped by her.

"Right arm."

Luciente held it out. He pressed a narrow cylinder to her arm. Something pierced her skin, sharp and stinging, and remained there under her skin. The man sprayed the spot with a cold liquid and moved down to Hyperion. Luciente traced her fingers over her arm, growling softly.

_Tagged._

Like animals.

She'd see about that.

* * *

Time passed aboard the hovercraft. Chatter between the tributes came and went, nervous talk to simply try and pass the time. Luciente leant forwards to peer over at the girl from Twelve. Tamika, she had learnt her name was after looking it up this morning. She was staring straight forward, clearly trying to hold back tears and pretend she hadn't noticed them. Luciente gestured at her, but she only turned her face away.

And for a split moment Luciente saw her with her trousers split open, her jacket and t-shirt torn away, her chest bloodied and bruised.

Hyperion frowned, looking between them.

The future wasn't set in stone.

She'd learnt that a long time ago.

Some things were, but some things only might be.

She pointed at the boy from Twelve. "Make sure that one dies."

Hyperion nodded.

* * *

**Author's Note**

SUBMITTER CHECK-IN

I haven't put many notes at the bottom of chapters like this, but here we are! We are currently two chapters away from the arena and three from the bloodbath, so stay tuned! I'm taking a note from some other authors on here and making a Submitter Check-in. It won't affect your tribute's placing in any way, I already have a draft and know where everyone's coming, it's just a check-in on everyone for when you reach this point. So tell me, if your tribute had a colour, what colour would they have?


	29. Chapter XXI: Into the Belly of the Beast

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

Thank you to Celtic, MoonlightSalsa, SetFiresJust2WatchThemBurn, SongofFete, and TheAmazingJAJ for checking in!

Next chapter is the countdown, and then we're into the bloodbath!

* * *

At last the hovercraft came to a stop. Peacekeepers in white uniforms marched aboard to collect them in small groups of four, the tributes from Eleven and Twelve first and then him, Luciente, Azrayk, and the girl from Nine. They were marched into a dark hall, and that was where they were separated, led off towards different halls. He glanced over his shoulder to catch one last glimpse of Luciente doing the same, her pale eyes meeting his before she vanished through the large double doors at one end of the hall and he through another.

* * *

_Less than an hour._

The hallways were dark, twisting, lit by orange strip lights, prison regulation.

_In less than an hour they'd be out there._

Two of the peacekeepers kept their batons in hand. She hadn't seen any of those with the other tributes with their weapons out.

_In less than an hour, they'd be out there in the arena._

He finally arrived at a shiny silver door labelled 'DISTRICT TEN MALE: HYPERION RIPLEY.' At least they'd seen fit to put his name on this one. Two of the peacekeepers stood to either side of the door while the remaining two opened it and shoved him inside.

_Thirty minutes._

The door closed behind her. The room was small, dark, with a large glass tube in the right corner. Presumably that was where she would enter, when it was time. Luxuria scurried across the room to greet her, her red lips drawn in a wide smile, fussing about how exciting this all was.

_Thirty minutes before they had to face their fate._

Valentino brought him a stack of clothes, his arena outfit. There was a set of black trousers, a green t-shirt, a brown jacket, a pair of brown socks, and a pair of heavy black boots, all with D10M printed on them. Lightweight, he said, made to be breathable and insulate from the cold.

"Nights could be cold, or weather could be variable."

He stripped off and began to pull them on.

_Twenty five minutes and the kids they had watched be interviewed last night would start dying._

And she felt nothing. No doubt perfect prissy Bale would have had something to say about that. But they weren't pack. They were prey, created to feed to coyotes, born to die. It was the natural cycle. She and Hyperion and Nathaniel and Arielle were the ones that mattered.

_Twenty minutes and they would be in the open air again, the scent of blood on their tongues._

He couldn't sit still. His heart was thumping, his stomach tying itself in knots. He had the advantage, he tried telling himself. How many of the other tributes had killed someone? Even the Careers, he doubted, had probably never tasted the blood as they drove their fist into the skull again and again and again. And yet he still worried. She was going to be out there with him, in the middle of the danger he once tried to save her from.

_Fifteen minutes and they would be together again, together but not truly free because there would always be another fence, another wall._

It wouldn't be freedom out there in the arena. She knew that. It would be captivity, worse than back in District Ten with its wall. But there was freedom out there, she had seen it, felt it, dreamt it, tasted it on her tongue as she ran through the woods, the crackling leaves under her paws. There was a world beyond the Districts, beyond the crushing pressure of the Capitol, out there in the wild. She'd seen it, once, through eyes that were both hers and not hers. For most tributes the arena was captivity and death, but they were wrong. This was the way to freedom.

_Ten minutes was all that remained before the world learnt who the true monsters were._

They had called them the monsters once. Paraded them in front of the District, laid bare their sins, preached how they were wrong for killing their enemy. It wasn't them that locked people up like beasts in cages. It wasn't them that beat them in the street. It wasn't them that took children of twelve from their homes and threw them into an arena of death, never to see their homes or loved ones again. Games, they called them, but what sort of game left the competitors dead? He gazed at his reflection in the mirror, listened to Valentino twitter on, traced his scars, the ones he could see and the ones he couldn't. They never knew how close they were to the truth. They never knew who the real monsters were.

_Five minutes until launch, until they were free from these tiny rooms and out in the open air._

She imagined she could smell water already. That didn't seem like the kind of mistake they would make, so she was imagining things, or hoping things, or it was the little ghost girl with the sad smile in the corner. Her form shone blue and then she vanished in a burst of light, there one moment and gone the next. Like life really. Such things were fleeting, passing by in an instant, or a series of instants, flash flash flash gone. So many would be gone in only twenty minutes' time. More in a week. She wondered of Ariel back home, whether she was safe, whether she was waiting, whether she'd already seen. She was born with that spark like them, born to be wild, if only she hadn't had it beaten out of her in the town by those that didn't understand. She couldn't go where they were going though, so she would have to be all alone, a coyote without a pack, a pup without an alpha.

_Four minutes and the clock was ticking down, bit by bit, until they would be sent to their fates._

Trapped. He hated being trapped. He'd been trapped for so long. He hated being trapped again now. He was born to be free, born to run, born to roam, born to hunt and howl and scream at the moon. No one was born to be trapped. He adjusted his jacket for the thousandth time.

'Remember your socks,' Valentino was saying now, still droning mindlessly on. 'So many tributes toss out their socks, but you'll only hurt your feet doing that.'

When did this end? The waiting and anticipation felt like they were almost going to be as bad as the moment.

The clock ticked down to three.

_Three minutes, and they were told to enter their tubes._

It sealed closed around her and she growled softly, pressing her hands to the side. Luxuria waved.

She snarled and showed her her teeth.

Annoying bitch.

'Attention tributes! Your tubes will begin the ascent in approximately thirty seconds.

Please stand by and keep all limbs inside.'

She wondered what idiot had once managed to make that mistake.

Luxuria shouted 'good luck' as the tube went dark around her.

She closed her eyes and listened, working out where the other tributes would be.

Her eyes snapped open.

The tube began to rise.

They would be too far apart.


	30. Chapter XXII: Facing Their Fate

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

The platforms rose slowly from the ground. Some of the tributes wobbled slightly, holding their arms out to keep their balance. Others were crouched down, their hands splayed against the ring of their platform to steady them. They blinked in the pale light as they took their first look at the arena.

The taste of salt was in the air. A thin fog hung over them. Thirty metres away at the edge of the sand trees lined the shore.

They were stood off the shore of a beach in a wide semi-circle, their pedestals fifteen feet from the sand. Supplies were scattered across the beach, a handful of bread loaves, a sheet of plastic, several canteens of water, a coil of rope, a few silver packets, a roll of wire. Further up the beach was the cornucopia, large and golden, with a wide entrance facing towards them. Closer to it were backpacks, bigger the closer they were. Inside silver weapons glinted in the light, and further back stood larger backpacks and enormous wooden crates. Atop it was a large screen displaying the number sixty.

"Welcome, tributes, to the Ninety Fourth Hunger Games!" came the voice of Elysium Buxom, the arena announcer. "In the cornucopia you will find all the supplies you could desire. If you wish to fight for them of course. May the odds be ever in your favour!"

He couldn't see her.

The semi-circle sort of curved gently around the beach, not so much that they were in a circle, but enough that she had to be on the entirely opposite side to him and maybe slightly further round, one of five or six tributes he couldn't see.

He forced his heart to beat quieter.

She could care for herself.

She had cared for herself for nearly two years.

She could care for herself.

She was sure he was worrying. She couldn't see him, which hadn't been the plan, but she could sense him. He was on the last pedestal at the other side, with Azrayk and the Career she couldn't see. They would have to run for the trees once they grabbed supplies and meet up there. Maybe twelve feet to her right was the boy from Eleven, and past him the girl from Eleven, who was the last in line. To her left was the boy from Four, who was staring fixedly at the cornucopia. Past him was the girl from Nine, Eleven's ally, and then the boy from Seven, with the boy from Two next to him and the Bad Vibes boy from Twelve past her. She couldn't quite see enough to see who was past him, but suspected it was the girl from Eight by the blonde hair. The next tribute was shorter, which meant it was probably one of the tributes from Three, since she couldn't sense Nathaniel. He was too new and far away.

He had to be right round the other side.

The clock ticked down to thirty seconds.

His was the last pedestal in line, lucky him, though it wasn't any closer to the beach. To his right was the girl from Two – a Career, just his luck, they'd have done that deliberately – and past her was Azrayk, who had shot him one unnerved look and was now scanning the other tributes. To Azrayk's right was the boy from Three, followed by the boy from One, and past that they were a little too far off for him to tell Districts.

The clock ticked down to fifteen seconds.

She could see a slingshot on a crate a little way away from the cornucopia. That was theirs, his most likely. She steadied herself on the pedestal. Now was not her time.

The clock ticked down to ten seconds.

There were a few knives glinting in the sand a short distance from the cornucopia, and better weapons even closer, large spears and shining broadswords. He'd have preferred a slingshot, but all it took to kill someone was to swing one of those, and he had the strength to more than do that. A spear then, and one of the larger backpacks. Maybe a canteen of water too, if he could grab one as he fled.

The clock ticked down to five seconds.

The boy from Four was eyeing her as though trying to decide whether or not he should be afraid of her. He should, but he didn't know that.

The gong rang.


	31. Chapter XXIII: When the Angels Bled

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

Here we go into the bloodbath!

* * *

He had a sudden thought that he should have listened to Luciente that the bloodbath would be in water and taken his boots off, but they seemed to be waterproof and held against the knee high water.

At least they didn't actually have to swim.

_Blood in the water_, she had said, but that kind of thing was rarely exact.

He splashed through it, struggling against the wet sand and weight of the water. Azrayk was staggering against it and the boy from Three was having an even worse time, being shorter so the water came halfway up his chest.

Thank fuck he was tall.

So too was the girl from Two, and she reached the shallower water and then the shore a moment before him, taking off sprinting for the cornucopia.

He was close behind.

The water went from knee high to around her shins and then ankles and then feet and then she was on the sand and running. The sand made it hard, her boots sinking into it with every step she took, slipping and sliding under her. The boy from Four was a little ahead, and past him she could see Ilenia a little further up than him, followed by the boy from Two and Bad Vibes from Twelve. The boy from Two reached out and wrapped his large hands around the neck of the boy from Seven, who was trying to flee past him, and snapped it.

Unlucky bastard.

His body dropped to the sand.

Some tributes were grabbing up the closer, smaller supplies; some were running for the cornucopia; a few others were fleeing straight for the woodland. Ilenia was the first to reach the cornucopia, snatching up a shining sword from inside, though she made no move to attack anyone just yet, instead glancing about the tributes scattered through the beach and water. The boy from Two was next, diving into the cornucopia to find a weapon.

He still couldn't see her.

If she was feeling sensible she wouldn't have run for the cornucopia – but it was never predictable, and there weren't many options for running. He grabbed a knife from the sand as he grew nearer to the cornucopia. There was a large blue backpack perhaps ten feet from the golden horn, and a large, gleaming wooden spear leant against a crate three feet beyond that.

The boy from Three practically ran into him in his attempt to snatch up a canteen of water. He slashed the knife from his throat to shoulder and he screamed, staggering, clawing at the wound.

He continued on to the cornucopia.

The girl from One was the next to reach the cornucopia, choosing a sword and swinging at the boy from Eleven, who had come too close to her to try and grab a pink backpack. The boy from Four, meanwhile, had grabbed a trident from inside the cornucopia but now seemed to be frozen in the mouth of it, looking about himself at the chaos. Nathaniel had snatched a loaf of bread and short length of rope from the outskirts of the sand and was now fleeing desperately towards the trees.

The boy from Four was close to her desired weapon – too close – and turned to face her as she neared the crates and snatched up the slingshot and long, metal projectiles that went with it. Ilenia crashed between them, shoving one of the nearby backpacks into her chest. "Go, go, go!"

"Hey, wait—" protested her District partner, somewhat hesitantly swinging his trident round towards her. Luciente swung the backpack by the straps and the prongs sunk into the fabric.

"You— You shouldn't do that."

She wrapped her fingers around the shaft and pulled on it, hard. The boy from Four looked somewhat startled and pulled back on it. Ilenia seemed to hesitate. Luciente held tighter, and he let go, raising his hands as their earlier pulling caused them both to stumble. She was the first to recover, raising her free hand, still clutching two of the metal slingshot projectiles, to drive them deep into the boy's eye.

The boy from One, who was already splattered in blood from some unfortunate tribute, had also found himself a sword and was chasing after the girl from Seven. She was stumbling across the sand, searching for some way out. The girl from Two, meanwhile, had grabbed several knives and was pursuing the boy from Eight, who had scooped up a rucksack from the sand and turned to flee for the trees.

She caught up with him and plunged the blade through his neck.

He grabbed the large backpack, slinging it over one shoulder, and seized the spear. It was only a little shorter than he was, the shaft thicker than his hand. He glanced around, but he still couldn't see her – and he couldn't stay there. She could have already run for the trees where it would be safe – or worse.

Shelley screamed for him. She and Azrayk had grabbed small backpacks and were running for the trees, scrambling across the sand.

Where was she?

The boy from Twelve had grabbed a knife from the sand and driven it through the neck of the girl from Eight as she ran to escape. The girl from Eleven had neared the outskirts of the better supplies, grabbing a small backpack while the girl from Nine screamed for her to leave it. The boy from Two, meanwhile, was chasing down the girl from Seven.

Ilenia only stared as her District partner went down and then charged at her, slamming her hands into her shoulders. "What part of 'go' don't you fucking understand?"

Luciente turned and ran. The boy from Two, who must have seen the altercation and finally found a bow, turned the weapon on her.

She had no fear.

It was not her time.

The girl from Seven ran in front of her in her bid to escape the boy from One and the arrow drove straight through her chest, the barb emerging from the other side. She grabbed another of the backpacks, throwing both over her shoulders, and took off across the beach after the girl from Eleven and towards Nathaniel.

The remaining tributes scattered across the sands, fleeing for the treeline. He was half-following, still looking around frantically for her. She had to be here somewhere, unless she'd reached the trees while he'd been running for the cornucopia – but that seemed unlikely, the beach was so open and she wasn't that fast.

And then as he reached the treeline he saw her, nearly at the other end of the beach. All he could really see was her slender figure and dark hair, but he knew it was her. She chased two other tributes into the trees and vanished.

This had not been part of the plan.


	32. Chapter XXIV: Welcome to Nowhere

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

The bloodbath is over and we are now well and truly into the Games! The rating for this story has now been raised to an M to be safe for the violence. Eulogies for characters will be included at the end of each day in the Games (to avoid spoilers in at least one place, heh), so eulogies for the bloodbath will actually be at the end of the next chapter, which is the end of day one.

* * *

This had not been part of the plan.

They were supposed to be together – they were _meant_ to be together!

She lolloped through the trees, dragging Nathaniel after her. The trees were close together, barely an arm's width apart. Nathaniel stumbled after her, tripping and staggering over the roots and branches. He was as unused to running through the outdoors as little Lucia had been, except she had time to adapt and he had none.

_"Keep up cub,"_ she remembered shouting, except not here and not now.

They kept running,

* * *

He took off on a diagonal route. From where he'd seen her and assuming she ran straight, they'd run into each other eventually.

Hopefully.

Azrayk and Shelley were behind. Azrayk was keeping up – just – but Shelley was struggling. The girl from Five wasn't used to this kind of terrain. He kept moving, shoving his way through the undergrowth with the spear. It was crude and clumsy, nothing like their once grace, but this was escape, not freedom or hunting, however much it felt that way.

Something moved in the trees ahead.

* * *

A living weight slammed into her side, hard and heavy, and for a moment she was falling, slipping and tumbling down a narrow slope to hit the trees at the bottom. She sprang back, landing on all fours, snarling. The girl kicked up leaves as she scrambled to get away. The girl from Nine, Luciente recognised, Azrayk's District partner.

"Luciente!" Nathaniel shouted, breaking through her thoughts.

"Bunny!" shouted the girl from Eleven, who was a little way away from him, a small backpack slung over her shoulders.

"Luciente, come on!"

She glanced up to him, and then at the two girls. Their ally, the girl from Three, was missing. She bounded back up to Nathaniel in five easy jumps. The girl from Nine scrambled against the earth and roots in an attempt to get back to them. Her ally reached down to her, catching her hand. Luciente dropped to all fours again and reached for her other arm.

The other girl blinked at her in surprise.

She smiled. "Come with us."

* * *

It was the pair from Six, Luciente's precious Arielle, and her little District partner. They all stared at each other for a moment. Hyperion was the only one with a weapon, clutching the spear tight. The District Six boy looked frantically about himself, grabbing at the girl's arm as though to shove her in front of him. She gaped at him in affronted horror.

Hyperion lowered the spear.

Luciente had been fascinated by this girl. She was convinced she'd be the Victor.

"My sister liked you in training. Come with us."

She glanced at her District partner, who scowled. A beat passed, and then another, and then she gave a tiny, cautious nod and stepped towards him.

Her District partner followed.

* * *

They kept moving, cutting their way through the woodland. It was hard going, the trees were all pressed together, in some places the gaps between barely large enough for a person to pass through. They were forced to break branches away or hold them back for each other, and stop every five minutes to help the others across large pits and ditches.

"It's Luciente, right?" asked the girl from Nine. Luciente spared her a glance and a grunt, springing over a large fallen branch. Nine looked at Nathaniel, who shrugged.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember your name."  
"Nathaniel; Nathaniel Volkner. I'm from Five."

"Yeah, I can see that."

He scowled. "What's that meant to mean?"

"You have the sigil on your back."

He blushed. "Oh. Well, I don't remember your names either."

"Bunny. That's Heaven. Weren't you were allies with Azrayk?"

"Yeah."

"You were reaped with your brother, right?" asked Heaven. "I didn't see him during the bloodbath."

"I did," said Bunny.

Luciente looked to her.

"He was right round the other side, almost direct opposite you. I'd bet they did that on purpose, split you two up."

Luciente growled softly.

Bastards.

"He killed the boy from Three."

Luciente shrugged.

"She killed the girl from Four," said Heaven. Bunny raised an eyebrow.

"You killed a Career wolf-girl?"

Luciente flashed her a grin.

Bunny smiled. "Clearly we ran into the right allies."

* * *

The woods here were nothing like Ten.

They were cramped and crowded, pressing in on them from all sides, the trees tall and towering.

Cutting a path through them wasn't easy.

Hyperion closed his eyes. He was trying to feel what she felt, trying to guess where she was, but every time he wondered if he felt something he found himself second guessing, because it was insanity.

He'd never shown a single drop of what Luciente had.

Why should he show it now?

The pair from Six were having a worse time than Skyla, tripping and stumbling through the woodland.

"I don't think I've seen this many trees in my whole entire life," Arielle grumbled, bashing her way through the branches. Hyperion shot her a look.

"You have to go around and past them, not through them. The trees aren't your enemy."

"This is the Hunger Games; everything is our enemy!" spat Shelley.

"What's your name?" asked Azrayk, edging a little closer to Arielle.

"Arielle. This is Wylie."

"Shelley. That's Azrayk and Hyperion."

"Yeah, him I remember. Wolf-boy, right?"

Hyperion ducked under another branch.

"Didn't they say you killed your father during the interviews?"

"You don't have to stay Six."

Wylie looked up at Arielle. She laid a hand on his shoulder. "I think we should stay with them."

"What?"

"I- want to stay with them. Safety in numbers, right?"

* * *

"What was going on between you and Twelve last night?" Heaven asked as they worked their way through the trees. "I know I was missing something, but I don't know what."

"That boy is evil," Luciente replied bluntly.

Heaven frowned slightly. "Isn't that a little harsh? I don't think anyone is truly evil."

"That boy is evil."

"How could you possibly know that?" Bunny snapped.

Nathaniel shrugged. "

"She's like that. She knows things I think."

Bunny rolled her eyes. "Like what? The weather next Sunday?"

"Dark. Cold," Luciente said.

This place would only ever be dark and cold.

"Very funny."

Nathaniel shook his head. "I don't think it was a joke. She knew the bloodbath was going to be over water. That's why you had us all practise swimming, isn't it? You knew."

Luciente shot him a glance. "Blood in the water."

"What's that meant to mean?"

She said nothing, rubbing at her arm.

A cannon rang through the air, quickly followed by another, and then a third.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

"Eight," said Bunny when the last cannon fired.

Heaven flinched. "Eight dead."

"More than last year," Nathaniel noted.

"Any idea who died and who's still alive?" asked Bunny.

"Well there's us," said Nathaniel slowly.

"That's four."

"The girl from Twelve. The girl from Four threw her a backpack and a knife," said Heaven.

"The five Careers," Nathaniel added.

"Unless they killed the girl from Four after her District partner was killed," Bunny said.

"So that's either ten or nine."

"Bethany," Heaven said, and choked.

Bunny nodded. "Yeah."

That must have been the little girl from Three, their other ally.

"Noel too."

Maybe the boy from Eleven? Luciente wasn't sure.

"Pair from Seven," she said, trying to think of who she had felt go. There had been so much panic and fear during the bloodbath it was hard to keep track.

"Dead or alive?" Nathaniel asked.

"Dead."

"So that makes five. Who are we missing?"

"Shelley," Nathaniel said, and then when they looked at him, "my District partner."

"Right."

"Azrayk as well. And Hyperion."

"Six," Luciente said.

"Both, or only the girl?"

She shrugged.

Bunny frowned. "Only the girl?"

Nathaniel shrugged. "She has a thing for the girl."

"Right. And then…" Bunny wet her lips.

"The boys from Three and Eight," Heaven said.

"Yeah. But we know two more of them must be dead."

"I guess we'll find out."

* * *

Eight dead. He knew, at least, Luciente wasn't one of them. He'd seen her escape. The girl from Eight was, however, and likely the boy from Three too, the one he'd cut open because he got in his way.

He had deserved it.

He'd been in his way.

"So many," Arielle whispered.

"Nathaniel," Shelley murmured. Azrayk reached to squeeze her shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

She sighed and shook her head. "He was just a little kid."

"He's fine," Hyperion grunted. "He's with Luciente."

Luciente would sooner stab a bitch than let anyone hurt that boy. For some reason he was unable to explain, he was pack. Just as she would defend him and he her, they would defend the boy.

"You sure?"

He grunted again.

"I guess we'll see tonight."

Arielle ducked under a tight cluster of branches to join him at the head of the small group. "What did you mean back there that your sister liked me in training?"

He shrugged. "Nothing."

"It must mean something. You didn't kill us."

"Maybe it means I don't want to kill you Six."

Luciente wanted her for Victor.

Luciente wanted her alive.

"Why not?" she pressed.

"It's not worth my time."

"Oh, well thanks for that clarification."

"Luciente wants you alive, so you're alive Six. Happy?"

"Why would she want me alive?"

Why did she ever want anything?

Hyperion had grown up with her for seventeen years, run wild and free, cared for her, protected her, killed for her – and even he didn't understand Luciente sometimes.

"Ask her yourself."


	33. Chapter XXV: The Ones Who Died

**Author's Note**

First of all, I should apologise for the unexpected halt in updates. Things have just been rough in real life and I lost motivation for posting. This probably won't be a return to schedule, though hopefully I will eventually get back to that. In the meantime though, I do not own the Hunger Games, but you can enjoy this chapter anyway!

* * *

They stopped moving, at long last, as dusk began to draw in.

"We need to find a watersource in the morning," he said.

Without water they were doomed, but except in the few desert arenas they had done, the Gamemakers always included some kind of water source somewhere. It had evidently been decided long ago that watching tributes die of slow dehydration was no fun at all.

They sat in a small huddle, hemmed in by the trees, to look through their backpacks. His was the biggest, containing a loaf of bread, a pack of jerky, two packs of crackers, an empty water canteen (which meant there was definitely water somewhere, the Gamemakers didn't include them when there wasn't), a large bottle of iodine, a blanket, a box of matches, and a set of funny looking goggles. He held them over his eyes, but they only turned everything funny colours, so he stuffed them back into the backpack.

They had a small amount of food between them, several packets of crackers and a few pieces of fruit along with a packet of jerky. Shelley was the only one with water, and she carefully siphoned a small amount off into each of the empty canteens. "But the rest is mine," she warned, and that seemed fair.

None of them really knew each other.

None of them really trusted each other.

And some of them might have to kill each other.

* * *

At last the trees began to open up, growing further and further apart until they gave way to a small clearing almost entirely filled by a small wooden cabin. They studied it carefully.

"Do you think it's safe?" Heaven asked.

"Let's find out."

Bunny and Heaven gave her twin looks of surprise as Luciente headed up to the door and opened it.

Inside was a single room, furnished with three sets of bunk beds at one end and a short bench at the other. Another narrow door was opposite the one she'd opened, and she pulled it open to reveal a toilet.

Nathaniel appeared at her shoulder to peer inside. "Cool! But why would they put this here?"

"Let's not question it," Bunny said, joining them by the door now it had been designated safe.

They filtered into the small space, locking the door behind them.

"I guess we stay here for tonight. But we'll need to find water in the morning." She bent down to open the cabinets under the bench. They contained a few wooden bowls and spoons.

The Capitol anthem sounded around them.

"Come on, they'll probably be showing the dead."

They slipped out quickly, gathering in a group by the door to watch the now cleared sky.

The first face to appear was the girl from Three, with the number '23' by her image. Heaven gave a stifled sob. Next was the male tribute from Three, labelled '21.'

They all knew the one coming next, the boy from Four, labelled '20.'

After her came the boy from Seven, which meant several things.

First, Illenia was still alive, and, presumably, still with the Careers.

Second, Shelley was alive, which was nice for Nathaniel she supposed.

And third, both the tributes from Six were alive and safe.

Seven's District partner, the one that died instead of her, was next, with '17' next to her name.

Then was the boy from Eight, followed by his little partner. The last one was the boy from Eleven, Heaven's District partner.

"Noel," Heaven whispered.

Bunny squeezed her arm. "You okay?"

Heaven nodded, dragging a hand across her eyes.

They returned to the cabin and began to make note of who that left.

"The pairs from One, Two, Six and Twelve."

"The girl from Four," Nathaniel added.

Bunny glanced at Luciente. "She could come gunning for you."

"She won't."

"Shelley. And Azrayk too."

"Sixteen of us."

Sixteen.

Sixteen tributes.

How many of them would die before they reached freedom?

Some, she was sure.

* * *

He had chosen to climb up one of the trees and watch the sky for the dead. He had been the best climber of the three of them in training, and even now he could climb as easily as he could when he had been a child. He pulled some of the branches aside and watched as they appeared. The boy from Three appeared, which meant his strike must have been lethal. That had been an accident, but he didn't feel anything for it. He watched as the boy from Eleven faded away and then climbed back to the ground.

No Luciente, not that he had been expecting there to be.

She was strong, wild, free, and he had seen her escape.

They would find each other again, they always did.

"Well?"

Shelley asked. He listed off the dead tributes in rapid order.

"The boy from Four's out," the boy from Six said in surprise.

"Someone killed a Career," Azrayk mused.

"Hopefully they'll kill some more," Shelley muttered.

Arielle pushed a lock of chestnut hair from her face. "That means there's only five of them left. And the girl from One's not as good as the others, I noticed in training."

"Gives us equal numbers at least," Azrayk said.

Wylie squeaked. "Equal? With the Careers? Trained to be monsters."

Skyla shrugged. "It's better odds than it could be. That's all I'm saying."

"It's not often a Career dies in the bloodbath," Shelley agreed.

"They're going to be pissed."

Hyperion glanced through the trees. "This terrain won't make it easy for them."

This was his terrain, his territory. He could roam here, but they couldn't. Not easily at least.

Azrayk shot him a look. "What are you thinking?"

"We need to start laying traps. Make it harder for them."

It was already going to be hard.

But this was his sort of land.

Why not make it harder?

A sudden, long, high howl rang through the air. Hyperion raised his head, lifting to the sound in the fading light.

"What now?"

The howl rang out again. Animalistic, but not quite, ghostly and haunting.

He smiled. "Thought I heard something."

It came a third time, and then the woodland was silent again.

"I can't hear anything."

"Must have been mistaken."

She was out there.

She was calling to him.

He closed his eyes and called back, the sound echoing around his skull.

* * *

The answering call came strong and loud, echoing through the trees, long and low. Luciente smiled. Five miles, maybe more, south west.

This hadn't been part of the plan.

They were supposed to be together.

Nathaniel appeared behind her. "Are you alright?"

"I- I miss him."

"We'll find him." He reached for her hand, squeezed it tight. "I'll help you find him, I promise."

She smiled. "Thank you."

He gazed up into the dark sky. There were no stars here, only an inky blackness that swallowed everything.

It had to be artificial.

She rubbed thoughtfully at her arm.

"Is your arm okay?" Nathaniel asked hesitantly.

She frowned at him.

"Only you've been rubbing at it all afternoon. You're not hurt are you?"

"No. It itches." She rolled her sleeve back, traced the unnatural lump under her skin. She could feel it there, the pulsing, dying vibrations.

"Luciente?"

"Hm?"

"Are you afraid of dying?"

"Death is but another path."

"There's only been one twelve year old Victor in ninety four years."

She grunted an agreement.

"I don't want to die."

She smiled softly. "You're not going to be Victor."

That place belonged to another, bird in a cage.

"You're going to be free."

And oh how she wished she could have brought Ariel with her, shown her the world, but Ariel was trapped in District Ten and they were here in the arena.

"I… don't understand."

She ruffled his hair. "You will."

He was lost, needing to be found, but one day he would understand.

One day he would be able to run, wild and free, roam the land like they did.

She still wasn't sure what he was, why he was different.

He wasn't like her and Hyperion, wild and strong.

He wasn't like Ariel, born to be wild and strong with it beaten out of her by her aloneness and bars.

He was something different, as though he was always meant to be like them and came out slightly wrong.

Unless-

Unless-

Unless-

Maybe.

She looked down at him. He was still watching the sky. "It never gets this dark in Five."

"There should be stars."

He shook his head. "We have… street lamps, and light pollution. It keeps everything light." He wrapped his arms around himself. "I don't think I've ever seen outside darkness like this."

"You'll get used to it."

"Come on." She tugged on his hand and led him back into the cabin.

* * *

**Author's Note**

Now that we've seen for sure who's out of the running, here's the list of fallen tributes and those remaining along with their alliances.

THE FALLEN

There are no eulogies for my tributes, as they had no focus or development. To make it look neat and pretty, this is why Aros's placement is out of order at the bottom.

District Seven male, Sylvan Cale. Killed by Cairn Aphelion of District Two. Placed Twenty Fourth.

District Three Female, Bethany Copper**. **Killed by Damon Newbury of District One. Placed Twenty Third.

District Eleven male, Noel Garland. Killed by Nike Arellano of District One. Placed Twenty Second.

District Three male, Zircon Keyes. Killed by Hyperion Ripley of District Ten. Placed Twenty First.

District Eight male: Rufous Azul . Killed by Livia Dolabella of District Two. Placed Nineteenth.

District Eight female: Chenille Darter. Killed by Sedge Hastings of District Twelve. Placed Eighteenth.

District Seven female: Wisteria Arbor. Killed by Cairn Aphelion of District Two. Placed Seventeenth.

District Four male: Aros Curran. Killed by Luciente Ripley of District Ten. Placed Twentieth.

First of all, I want to say that there is a plot reason Aros went down so early and is the only submitted tribute to die in the bloodbath, and it's not because I hate him as a character or Dreamer as a submitter! I love Aros, he's such a sweetheart, and I love him even more because he was made to fit in with my headcanons. He just wanted to do his best and prove himself, but life kept on throwing him punches and he ended up in a bad situation here between Luciente and Ilenia. Thank you so much for this sweet boy Dreamer, and try not to despair too much! Aros very much still has a role to play yet!

* * *

CURRENT ALLIANCES:

**CAREERS: **Damon Newbury [D1M]; Nike Arellano [D1F]; Cairn Aphelion [D2M]; Livia Dolabella [D2F]; Ilenia Costello [D4F]

**OMEGAS: **Shelley Fisher [D5F]; Wylie Cooper [D6M]; Arielle Wayne [D6F]; Azrayk Blaze [D9M]; Hyperion Ripley [D10M].

**SCYTHE GIRLS FT 1/2 OMEGAS:** Nathaniel Volkner [D5M]; Abundance Harper [D9F]; Luciente Ripley [D10F]; Heaven Jonas [D11F].

**LONERS:** Sedge Hastings [D12M]; Tamika Tran [D12F]


	34. Chapter XXVI: What's Dead Can Never Die

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

Bunny and Heaven had claimed one of the bunk bed sets, Heaven on the bottom and Bunny on the top. There was no bedding, but Heaven's small backpack and the one Luciente had given Nathaniel contained blankets, and the two had laid them out across their bunks. Bunny had left the cornucopia with nothing but a canteen of water and coil of rope, while Luciente's bag had no blanket, though it did contain a square of plastic.

"I'll stay up and take watch," Bunny said, sliding down from her bunk.

Luciente grunted.

"You don't talk very much, do you?"

She shrugged.

"I think she only talks to people she wants to," Nathaniel said.

"Yeah, I get that." Bunny slipped out, closing the door behind her.

Luciente climbed onto the bunk above the one Nathaniel had sat on and stretched out across the mattress. It was a rough, hard thing, but she'd had worse. She curled into a tight ball and closed her eyes.

Tomorrow.

They had been apart for longer than just one night.

* * *

He sat up for first watch, half-listening, half-hoping that he might hear her howl again.

It never came.

He wasn't even sure which direction it had come from. It could have been anywhere. North, South, East, West.

He should be better by now at locating her.

Here in the quiet and what felt like the wilderness he could think, and wonder, and plan.

How was he meant to do this?

Luciente had always said they would be _free_, but the word had too many definitions. He wasn't even sure she knew what she meant.

And they couldn't win.

Or at least, he couldn't.

He was a criminal, a murderer.

The Capitol would never allow it.

Maybe he could get Luciente to victory – maybe – but she wasn't the kind of Victor they'd want either, and she always said _they_.

_They_ would be free.

Him and her both.

And she said Arielle would be Victor.

He couldn't see it, but the Games had had unexpected Victors in the past.

All Arielle could need to do was outlive everyone else.

Azrayk woke for the second watch and he settled against a tree, napping on and off for the rest of the night. He woke as dawn broke, golden light fighting through the thick canopy of trees.

Their alliance of five shared out an orange between them for breakfast, already trying to conserve what little food they had. Once they found a water source they might be able to fish, or hunt if gam e went there to drink.

Shelley stretched out and got to her feet. "We should get moving."

Top of their agenda had to be finding a water source, because how long could they truly last without water?

Then he needed to find Luciente.

That was going to be hard, especially if the Gamemakers decided they didn't want them finding each other. He had no doubt the cornucopia layout had been deliberate, driving them apart, keeping them away from each other-

He could only imagine the drama the news stations were making up back in the Capitol.

They had laid a few traps last night and they lay a few more as they went now, digging shallow holes barely big enough for a boot and lining them with sharpened wooden spikes. Hyperion carved small circles in the trees as a marker Luciente would recognise, the same symbol they used in Ten to signal 'there are traps here.'

Not that the Careers would know it, which was exactly what he wanted.

They moved through the trees, squeezing through gaps barely big enough to fit through.

When the Games were over, he thought, so many of these trees would die.

He had heard that the Capitol liked to preserve the arenas, that Capitolites visited them for fun – while he was in prison there was once a whole documentary on it played while they were in the canteen.

"_Whoop-ee for them_," Karl had commented as they showed the empty arena of the Eighty Ninth Games.

"_Kinda morbid_," had been Reece's comment.

But surely trees couldn't live like this.

It was artificial, grown for the Games, and they didn't have enough space or light.

Even now he could see smaller ones rotting, dying, beneath the larger tree trunks that barricaded all the sunlight.

This arena would die, just like the tributes inside it.

* * *

They spread out a little to explore the area surrounding the cabin in the morning. There was a cleared meadow of maybe six foot around it, and then the trees started, at first thin and scattered but quickly becoming thicker and denser until it looked like staring into the darkness.

It wasn't natural.

She went in a little way, and in places the trees were so close together she had to squeeze between them sideways.

She gripped one of the trees, turning her head towards the canopy and calling out for him.

No answer came this time round.

She could smell salt.

She glanced around, frowning, but could see nothing until she spotted a rabbit amongst the thick trees, fluffy and white, nibbling at the grass. Crouching amongst the tree trunks, she pulled the slingshot and a projectile from her belt, lining up a shot. The rabbit twitched, and then she fired.

The projectile flew straight, burying itself deep into the rabbit's eye. She licked her lips, bounding through the trees to snatch up her prize. She wanted to sink her teeth straight into it – she was going crazy for fresh meat – but it occurred to her the others might want to share and she turned to return to the cabin.

Paused.

A flicker of yellow, a thin girl in arena clothing.

The girl from Three.

What did Heaven call her?

The girl just looked… confused, staring at her wide eyed. Did she know she was dead, Luciente wondered? Many didn't, and she died so suddenly. She gestured for her to follow, but still the girl only stared, until at last she faded from sight.

Luciente took the rabbit back to the cabin. Bunny had found a stream and filled up their empty canteens with water and canteens.

"We can probably stay here for a few days," she said. "We've got shelter, and water, and food, apparently." She eyed the still bloody rabbit hanging from Luciente's hand.

"Would it be safe to light a fire?" asked Heaven, glancing around as though she expected Careers to come charging from the trees at any moment.

"We ran for hours yesterday; the Careers probably stayed at the cornucopia and licked their wounds. Besides, we'd have fair warning of anyone coming."

The decision was made, so she skinned the rabbit carcass with the pocket knife Heaven had got in her backpack from the cornucopia and they lit a fire to cook it.

Rabbit meat wasn't good to live on long term, but it was food in their bellies for now, and they were starving.

Luciente paced the meadow as it cooked, peering between the trees, but she saw no more signs of ghosts or fairies. This was an unnatural place: if she could sense it, they could sense it too and stay away.

"What was the girl from Three called?" she asked, returning to their firepit.

Heaven looked up at her. "Huh?"

"Your ally, the girl from Three. What was she called?"

"Bethany. Why?"

"I saw her earlier."

Heaven frowned. "Bethany died in the bloodbath."

"What's dead is never truly gone."

Perhaps that was why the girl was here. If she hadn't realised she was dead, she could well have simply followed her allies – or been drawn to them even in death.

Either way, the dead couldn't hurt them.

Maybe they should keep her some rabbit.


	35. Chapter XXVII: Where the Water Flows

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

It must have been midday when they finally found water, a wide, shallow, clear stream that cut its way through the trees.

"Oh thank fuck," breathed Shelley and all of them scrambled down to splash water on their faces and laugh. Hyperion cupped it in his hands and gulped it down, parched.

Azrayk frowned. "You should make sure it's clean first. We don't know what they've put in it."

Shelley shrugged. "Ah, come off it Azrayk. No one wants to watch tributes shit themselves to death anymore."

That had been all the range fifty years ago, but not now.

Hyperion filled up his canteen and added a drop of iodine for good measure, though he'd been drinking water from streams, ponds, and filthy puddles for longer than he could remember and it hadn't killed him yet.

The others filled up their own empty canteens, adding the appropriate amount of iodine (Hyperion rolled his eyes, Shelley was right, they hadn't given tributes dirty water in years) and gulped it down before stopping to refill their canteens.

Did Luciente have water, he wondered?

She knew as much as he did to find it.

Maybe she'd even found the same stream further down.

He thought he heard her earlier, but it sounded so blurry and distant, like he was hearing it over the roar of the sea, that he couldn't be sure. He had tried to howl back, but received no answer.

He drained his canteen and refilled it. It felt good to have pure water, not the stale prison drink or fancy tasteless sparkling Capitol stuff.

"It's too shallow here for fish – at least ones big enough for eating," Shelley said, swiping a hand at some of the tiny silver shapes glittering beneath the surface. With her entire hand under, the water barely came to her wrist. The fish darted away from her clumsy swipe.

"We need to find someplace where it's deeper if we want to fish."

Hyperion raised an eyebrow. "What do you know about fishing?"

She scowled and flushed a scarlet red. "District Five has a lot of waterways – to power the powerplants or cool the reactors see. My dad taught me to fish, it's a cheap way to boost your food. He's real good at it, better than me."

"Huh."

He and Luciente had never been good at fishing – better at proper hunting – so if Shelley had some experience that could only be a good thing.

"I'm not swimming though," Shelley said. "No way, no how. You know how easy it is to drown?"

"Let's get moving," Azrayk said, taking the lead in beginning to march downstream. Shelley quickly moved to follow him. Hyperion let the pair from Six go next and then brought up the end of their little group.

The stream quickly began to grow wider and deeper, until it had to be a good twenty feet across and maybe ten feet deep.

The water was still clear enough for them to see the bottom.

Larger fish swam here, darting silver shapes that fled back and forth through the water. Shelley had been fashioning some sort of hook with the coil of wire she got in her backpack and a thorned branch as they walked. Now she knelt to dig her fingers into the earth and turn it over.

"What you looking for?"

"Worms. Or insects, grubs. Something for a lure."

Azrayk soon came up with a handful of grubs. Shelley threaded two of them onto her makeshift hook and tossed it into the water. The fish fled from the splash but soon returned to swimming around it and darting close. At last one darted forwards and took the lure. Shelley jerked the branch and yanked it towards them, hauling the fish from the water. It was maybe the size of her forearm, large and flat and silver, flopping on the earth until at last it lay still.

"Who wants fish?" Shelley asked cheerfully.

* * *

The rabbit flesh was good and juicy, if a little stringy. The four of them devoured it, picking the bones clean, though Luciente made sure Nathaniel got the biggest share.

Perhaps meat would help.

She still hadn't seen any sign of the ghost girl from Three — Bethany — so maybe she had only come by the once. She wouldn't be the first.

The itch and burn was still there, lingering under her skin. Luciente was trying her best not to scratch at it and alert someone – or, worse, leave a wound that could become infected.

They stomped out the fire and made sure there was no smoke left to give them away. The Careers were bound to be out hunting for tributes by now. Not that this terrain was going to make things easy for them. They would be fighting it as much as the tributes.

Luciente found her way out to the stream Bunny had found. It was wide and shallow, maybe only five foot deep, with silver fish darting here and there.

She uncapped her canteen to refill it, plunging it into the cool water-

_Hyperion._

He was here – further up the stream – he was here – _here here here_ – with Azrayk and Shelley and the Girl-Who-Would-Be-Victor. They were – _fishing?_ – getting their hands and knees wet as they leant into the water. She spread her fingers wide, closing her eyes and leaning forwards to the water. _Come to me._

_Luciente?_

_Come to me._

_Where are you?_

_Do-_

A hand touched her arm. "Luciente?"

She lurched forwards, damn near toppling into the water if not for Nathaniel grabbing her arm and pulling her back. She rocked unsteadily on her heels, reaching out to snatch her floating canteen from the water.

"Are you alright?"

"Hyperion."

"What? Where?" He looked about himself frantically, as though expecting Hyperion to magically materialise.

"Upstream."

"But-" He shook his head. "You went all weird and vacant. I thought maybe you were having some sort of seizure."

"I saw him. Upstream. Shelley's there too."

"Well, that's good to know. But how do you know it?"

"I know it," she replied.

_Come to me._

_Find me._

_Stay with me._

Nathaniel jumped and skittered back away from her, eyeing her nervously, and then got to his feet. "We should go back to the cabin."

Luciente gazed upstream one last time, remembering his image in her head. _Find me brother._

Nathaniel flinched and led her back up towards the cabin.

There was a flicker of yellow in the trees.

She paused, turned, looked.

The girl from Three was there again, her dark hair still fastened in the ponytail from the bloodbath and blood staining the upper half of her clothing. Luciente hesitated, and then offered her her water canteen.

Nathaniel frowned. "What are you doing now?"

"It's Bethany, right?"

The girl continued to stare at her, but now her mouth moved slightly, acknowledgement. She raised an arm, pointing in the direction that would be downstream.

Luciente frowned. "That way?"

Bethany simply stood there and pointed.

"But Hyperion…"

Hyperion was upstream.

And they might have been apart for longer than this, but she still needed – _needed, needed, needed_ – him, he was her brother and she couldn't leave him behind like she'd been forced to leave Ariel.

They were born to be wild and free.

The girl continued to point until at last she had faded away completely.


	36. Chapter XXVIII: Sorrows of the Soul

**Author's** Note

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

While she had been gone, Bunny and Heaven had torn open a sponsor box and Bunny was now holding a long, serrated dagger.

"You were gone a long time. Everything alright?"

Luciente grunted.

"I think she was trying to hunt something else at the stream," Nathaniel supplied.

"Ah. Well, never mind. I'm sure there'll be other chances."

Luciente leant against the doorframe, gazing out into the woods.

Far, far in the distance she could see pale smoke rising up towards the sky. It was the wrong direction for Hyperion, which meant someone else.

At least they were far, far from them.

* * *

_Luciente._

_Where are you?_

_Talk to me._

_Luciente._

_Luciente!_

Hyperion sighed and stared downstream.

He was still getting no reply.

She must have left the stream for whatever reason.

But he knew where she was.

He knew where she was!

And she would stay by the stream until he reached her, he knew that, which meant all he had to do was reach her.

He almost laughed with relief, if not for the presence of the others.

He, Shelley, and Wylie were fishing, while Arielle dug out worms and bugs to use as lure and Azrayk built up a fire. They had a healthy catch of fish by now, enough that they would be able to eat well when they cooked it.

He wondered if she had food.

Then he cast the thought aside.

She was more than capable of finding it if she needed to.

_Come to me_, she had said, _find me, come to me, find me._ A call, a cry, a need.

The lone coyote dies, they had always noted. Coyotes cast aside from their pack never lasted long.

She was his pack.

But he didn't know if she was alone.

At the bloodbath she had been close behind two others, and Nathaniel's face hadn't been in the sky – which meant she could be with him.

She had a thing about Nathaniel, so it would make sense. It was like she was fascinated by him, drawn to him the moment she saw his face and those large, pale eyes of his.

It was one of her things he supposed. Just like she knew things, like she saw things and spoke to people that weren't there sometimes, she saw something in Nathaniel she wanted.

And holy _fuck_ did she want it!

She was… interested by Arielle, but she was fixated on Nathaniel.

Hyperion hadn't seen her so focused on anything in all their years of being together and apart.

She hadn't even seemed that fixated on little Ariel, with her own big pale eyes, and she was their half-sister, but then again maybe he hadn't seen them together enough to gage it. He'd only met Ariel the once, in the goodbye room, and yet once had been enough for him to know what he was seeing, recognise the _otherness_ in her big pale eyes.

Nathaniel held no _otherness_.

He was human.

Hyperion climbed from the water with his latest fish, tossing it onto the pile of smaller fish.

"Reckon we've got enough for a decent meal," Azrayk said. Hyperion had warily leant him the knife so he could clumsily descale several of the fish under Shelley's called instructions and skewer them on thin branches which they now pinned over the fire.

Roasted fish, not something he'd tried, but it would be food in his belly.

He paced their little camp as they waited for it to cook, still barefoot.

Shelley and Wylie were drying their feet on the leaves and pulling their socks and boots back on, but he didn't mind going barefoot.

Besides.

Something out here was making his skin prickle and itch.

He had never had a drop of what Luciente had, but something out here was wrong. The hair at the back of his neck prickled and something itched and burned deep in his chest.

"Something wrong?" Azrayk called, getting to his feet. He had formed a crude spear of his own from a sturdy tree branch, and Shelley had found a large rock slightly bigger than her fist to use as a weapon.

"Something's… off."

"The Careers you think?"

"I don't know."

They were equal numbers with the Careers at least, five on five, and near equal sizes as well, though the Career tributes would be better armed.

"Could be mutts," Arielle suggested.

Azrayk shook his head. "Listen. Too much birdsong for mutts – big ones anyhow."

"Don't have to be big," Shelley countered.

"Weren't there squirrels mutts a few years back?" Arielle asked.

_Someone was in trouble._

He knew it.

Not here, and not them – not Luciente either, he suspected he'd feel that, more than he felt this, more than anything – but someone.

And they were in trouble.

And then it passed.

"Someone ran into trouble," he grunted, lowering his spear and moving away from the trees.

Not Luciente, he decided, couldn't be Luciente. He'd have felt it more. The Careers then, or Azrayk's District partner and her ally. The pair from Twelve were both still around as well, quite possibly the only ones about without any allies.

No cannons though, which meant no one had been killed.

"Man," Shelley whined after a tense moment. "You and your sister are fucking weird."


	37. Chapter XXIX: Angels Calling

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

She managed to kill two squirrels in the evening, which gave them something to eat, even if it wasn't much, and they picked the carcasses clean.

None of them wanted to leave or waste anything.

They didn't know when they would get more food.

Luciente stuffed a leg in her pocket.

If any of them noticed, none of them said anything.

She requested the morning watch this time, the last one. Nathaniel had third, Bunny second and Heaven first.

They would probably have to move on from this place soon.

They might get another day, _maybe_ two if they were lucky, but then the audience would start to get bored of watching them amicably hanging out together.

She had her suspicions about why Bunny had been sent that dagger.

She slid out of bed as Nathaniel took over, touched his shoulder. "Take my watch if I'm not back. I'll take yours tomorrow."

"Well where are you going?" he whispered back, which was a fair question.

"I need to check on something."

"Then I'll come with you! You shouldn't go alone."

She flashed him her teeth. "I can take care of myself. Stay with them; I'll be back soon."

Nathaniel sighed. "If you're not back by dawn I'm coming looking for you."

_So headstrong._

It occurred to her as she slipped from the cabin, that she was letting him out of her sight.

And more than that, she was letting him out of her sight and leaving him with Bunny and Heaven.

She trusted him with them, she realised.

She'd read them without meaning to, decided they were trustable, and left her most precious possession with them.

Well, she hoped they appreciated it.

* * *

She prowled down to where she'd seen Bethany during the day, absent-mindedly rubbing her fingers over the material of her sleeve.

She didn't appear again, but then Luciente hadn't really been expecting her to.

Instead she took a right when she reached the stream and began to follow the way she had earlier pointed. She found her way in the dark, feeling through the trees, relying on her hands and feet and sense of knowing as much as her eyes.

At last the trees began to thin again, giving way to a strip of land only maybe six feet long before it dropped away into a steep cliff.

The air smelt of salt.

She knelt on all fours to peer over the cliff at the white topped waves as they crashed below.

The sea.

There was no freedom to be found there.

She backed up, and caught the by now familiar shimmer of yellow as Bethany appeared by the trees.

"Hi," Luciente said.

Bethany's mouth moved slightly. Luciente's heart twisted a little. Sweet. She still thought she could speak, as though she had anyone or anything to speak with.

"It's Bethany, right?"

She nodded, almost shyly.

Luciente pulled the squirrel leg from her pocket and held it out. "I brought you an offering."

The girl reached for it with waspish, silvery hands. Luciente pressed it into the silvery mist and watched as it dissolved. Of course, most preferred flowers or pretty baubles, but she didn't exactly have a multitude of those to hand right now.

"What is it you were trying to show me?"

Bethany pointed out to sea again.

"There's nothing there for me."

Bethany pointed again, more insistent this time. Luciente peered back over the edge. There was a sliver of beach that might be larger when – if – the tide went out.

"You think there's something down there?"

Bethany nodded.

"Something from the Gamemakers?"

Bethany hesitated.

Oh, now that was interesting.

Almost everything in any arena came from the Gamemakers. Occassionally there would be some natural phenomenom they couldn't control, but for the most of it, even the air was controlled by the Gamemakers.

The world was as they carved it.

For Bethany to hesitate…

This thing had to have been overlooked.

Or old.

"I'll come back in the morning, when it's light."

And when she had Nathaniel with her. She might need help with whatever this thing was.

She found her way back to the stream, following it back the way she came. Finding her footing in the dark she followed her sense of where Nathaniel was to return to the cabin, padding back to where he was waiting in the doorway.

"Told you I'd be back soon. I'll take the last watch."

He climbed to his feet. "Where'd you go?"

Luciente smiled. "To the sea. How would you like to go treasure hunting?"


	38. Chapter XXX: Die at His Feet

**Author's Note**

I do not own The Hunger Games.

* * *

Nothing.

He'd heard nothing of her.

Luciente hadn't even howled last night or this morning.

Hyperion stretched out and took a long drink from his canteen. He knew she wasn't dead at least. No cannons. No deaths on the first day, not that that was unusual. The Gamemakers would often give tributes a day to acclimatise before things started to happen.

But now the grace period was gone, he needed to find her.

He knew she was close – somewhere downstream, only downstream, and she'd wait for him – so all he had to do was get there.

Shelley was fishing again, and as he watched she dragged up something that was certainly not a fish, a length of glistening wet black _something_ that writhed on her hook as she flung it onto the shore and leapt on top of it, slamming her branch down across its neck to try and crush it.

"What the fuck is that?"

"It's an eel! Don't just stand there; help me kill it!"

The eel continued to struggle under her.

It fought more than the fish at least.

Hyperion spun his spear around and drove it hard through the thing's head.

It gave one last stubborn thrash – and lay still.

The five of them studied it. He'd certainly never seen anything like it before.

"It looks like a snake," Azrayk said, looking puzzled.

He was right.

It did look kinda like a snake.

"We get them sometimes in Five. They're good eating."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Come on, help me hack it up and I'll prove it!"

Somehow, ridiculously, it turned into a competition between the three of them, overlooked by a bewildered looking Wylie and Arielle, over who could chop up their section of the eel the fastest and neatest. Shelley won, unsurprisingly, and skewered her chunks of eel on a sharpened stick. "We need to cook them."

The fire had long since been extinguished and gone cold, but they relit it now and got it roaring to cook the eel.

It all felt stupidly domestic as they sat around to try a piece.

Azrayk chewed thoughtfully on his. "What do you know? It is good."

Hyperion swallowed his own chunk of eel and frowned as he listened to the world around him. It felt quiet, suddenly, like the night before. A strange coldness crept over him. He snatched up his spear and got to his feet. Azrayk followed suite. There was no birdsong, no noise.

Hyperion peered into the trees. He could pick them out in the darkness, three large shapes, darker than darkness. He twitched his hand, tipping his head towards them, and then remembered a moment later Luciente wasn't with him.

They came crashing from the trees a heartbeat later.

The boy from One and the pair from Two, Hyperion recognised. The camp came alive around him, Shelley bouncing to her feet and Arielle lunging for Wylie. Azrayk snatched up his makeshift spear, while Shelley grabbed a branch and set it alight in the fire, whipping it in front of her like a burning blade. The boy from Two drew his fist back and swung for her, while the boy from One chased after Arielle and Wylie as they fled into the water.

The girl from Two lunged at Hyperion, wielding two wicked looking knives. "Where's your freak sister Ten?"

Hyperion knocked one of her swings aside with his spear, dodging aside.

"Did you lose her?"

He growled, ducking again as she swung at him.

"I'll tell her I killed you when I find her. And then I'll draw it out, make sure it lasts."

He roared, swinging the spear at her. It cracked into the side of her head and she stumbled, fell. He raised it to bring it down on her, only for the boy from One to intercede, forcing the spear tip away with his sword.

There was a sharp, shrill scream from Arielle.

A heavy splash followed it.

A cannon rang out.

The girl from Two scrambled to her feet.

The boy from One stood still, staring out into the stream.

Arielle continued to scream.

Hyperion tightened his grip on the spear, jerked it away from One's sword, and drove it through his chest.

Crimson blood spurted from the wound. The boy stumbled, staggered, grasping uselessly at the spear. The boy from Two sprinted towards them, grabbed his District partner's arm, and yanked her away into the trees as she screamed furiously.

"I'll see you soon Ten!" she roared.

Hyperion wrenched his spear from One's chest. His body slammed to the ground. He choked for air, spat out blood, and then lay still.

A cannon boomed.

For a moment they were all still, silent, except for Arielle, who was still howling. Wylie lay face down in the water by her knees, two large arrows protruding from his back.

Shelley snatched up her backpack. "We have to go."

"Wylie," Arielle whispered, reaching for his shoulder. "Wylie, Wylie."

"Let's move Six!" Azrayk hollered.

Hyperion looked at the boy at his feet. He had been scared when he killed their father, scared of what he'd done but more scared of being caught.

He wasn't scared.

He reached down to the boy and took the small backpack he'd been carrying, the knife at his waist and the sword, clipping them to his own belt.

"How comes you get all the weapons?" Shelley whined.

"Did you kill the bastard?"

"I might have done, if I'd had a sword."

"I killed him. I keep these." He looked over at Arielle. There was no way he was going to fetch her, but Luciente did like her so. "Six, you coming or not?"

Arielle dragged a hand across her eyes and slowly waded back to shore. Blood was splattered across her face and caught in her chestnut curls, but it was probably Wylie's rather than her own. Azrayk stomped out the fire. "Which way?"

"That way." Hyperion pointed downstream. Towards Luciente.

Shelley frowned, eyeing Wylie's corpse. "The water will be contaminated that way."

"Luciente's that way."

"And you know that how?"

"You don't have to come Five."

Shelley scowled, but she followed. Arielle cast one last look at Wylie's body bobbing in the water, and then did likewise.


	39. Chapter XXXI: Unweave the Wind

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

They had no prey for this morning, so they shared the two bread rolls from the backpack she gave Nathaniel between them. It wasn't like they'd keep much longer anyway; they were already going hard. She ate hers in a few easy bites and licked the crumbs from her fingers before tracing them over her arm.

"That way goes to the sea," she said, pointing in roughly the right direction.

Bunny frowned. "How do you know that?"

She shrugged.

Nathaniel said nothing.

"I'm going to take Nathaniel down there. See what we can find."

Bethany had thought there was something down there at least.

"I'll go with you," Heaven said.

Bunny sighed. "I'll stay here and keep house then I guess."

With that decided, they packed up hers and Nathaniel's food into one of their backpacks – food was precious, here – and tied everything else into his blanket to leave on his bed.

Because it was crazy, but she did trust Bunny.

* * *

They filled their canteens at the stream, capping them and clipping them to their belts before continuing on.

"I hope Bunny's okay," Heaven said for the sixth time.

Nathaniel rolled her eyes. "If you're worried about her that much, go back to her."

Heaven opened her mouth and then closed it again as though she had no intelligent retort. Luciente stepped ahead of her and continued the path through the woods. They were thinning out quickly around them. They were near the cliff.

Soon enough they were stepping out of the tree line. In the daylight she could see how the land opened up around them, dropping away into the sea, which seemed to stretch out forever. The light glinted from the water, glistening.

"Woah."

For a moment, they all stood and gazed out to sea. It could be endless, Luciente thought, covering the entire world.

But something told her that somewhere out there there was land.

Land that should be theirs for the taking, whispered something deep inside her, territory they could claim and haunt and defend until time reached its end.

Nathaniel was the first to break away. "So where do we start?"

Luciente pointed to the beach below them. "We need to get down there."

He glanced down at the water one last time before shuffling back to joint them. "Of course we do. We best get going then."

Heaven took a step to the left, glancing along the coastline. It stretched out as far as they could see, the trees lining the edge, but appeared to slope in several places, leading down to the sand.

Luciente broke away from the view over the sea and followed her two allies as they headed for the closest of the slopes.

There was something down there, something powerful. She could feel it, deep in her chest, pulling at her heart. Nothing she had ever encountered pulled like that, but perhaps the arena was disrupting things. It was an unnatural place, and yet she could feel something, like the ground under her feet itself was humming.

It wasn't often she found something she wasn't sure about, and she didn't know if she liked it.

* * *

The climb down to the beach was long, steep, and sandy. The three of them half climbed, half slid to the bottom. The call was all around them here, hanging in the air, shrill and insistent. Luciente closed her eyes and reached out to it. She could feel it, smell it, taste it, almost tangible.

Nathaniel shivered, tugging his arena jacket together around his shoulders, and reached down to pick up a length of vine. "Maybe we can lay some traps."

Heaven smiled. "I'll help." She glanced up and down the beach. "Isn't this exciting? I've never been to the beach before."

"We were on a beach for the bloodbath," Nathaniel pointed out as Luciente began to drift away from them. Behind her, she heard Heaven huff in annoyance.

"That doesn't count!"

"Then this can't possibly count since we're still in the Hunger Games!"

Luciente held her arms out, listening to the hum, and kicked at the sand. It was so loud here that it was impossible to tell what direction it was coming from. It seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time, cold and warm all once, a thrum of energy shining brighter than the sun.

* * *

Nathaniel and Heaven managed to put together a few basic traps and then joined her in walking along the beach. Nathaniel glanced up at her with those pale eyes of his, so like her own and Ariel's.

If she had children, she wondered suddenly, would they look like her and him, with their pale eyes and pointed features, or would they look like Hyperion, with his human eyes and broad shouldered build? Would they sense the world like she did or see it like him, living with his eyes shut?

"Can you feel that?" Nathaniel asked.

She smiled down at him. "Can you?"

"What is it?"

"What we're looking for."

Whatever it was, it wasn't on the beach. They had passed midday, and it would take them a good while to get back to the other end and return to the cabin. Luciente took his hand as she turned around and began to walk back towards where Heaven was stood on the water's edge a short way away from them.

The water's edge.

The water.

She stared out to sea.

The thrum of power echoed back, and she caught a shimmer of yellow and an even more distant flash of blue, amongst the ghostly silver and pale purple of fairies far too far to make out true forms.

She led Nathaniel over to where the tide was lapping up the sand and dipped the toes of her boot into the water.

Even through her clothing she felt it.

The water.

But—

The water itself, or—

"We should get back to Bunny," Nathaniel said.

"I hope she's okay," said Heaven for what had to be the twentieth time.

Luciente followed as Nathaniel began the trek back towards the treeline.

Some things were worth it.

* * *

Nathaniel's traps had caught two rabbits, one dead, one alive and squealing. She drove a projective through its eye and helped him disentangle them.

"At least we've got food," he said with a smile.

She ruffled his hair with a bloody hand. "At least someone succeeded at something today."

She was going to have to come back.

* * *

THE FALLEN

District Six Male: Wylie Cooper. Killed by Cairn Aphelion of District Two. Placed Sixteenth.

Wylie was such a sweetheart. He was one of the youngest tributes and such an upbeat little kid who was really trying his best. Ultimately though, with someone going to die in that confrontation, he was the most vulnerable. Thank you for him SongofFete!

District One Male: Damon Newbury. Killed by Hyperion Ripley of District Ten. Placed Fifteenth.

Damon was not a sweetheart, but he was a very good Career. I loved having him around, especially since the Career pack is a bit of a mixed bag this year. Thank you for him JAJ!

CURRENT ALLIANCES:

**CAREERS: **Nike Arellano [D1F]; Cairn Aphelion [D2M]; Livia Dolabella [D2F]; Ilenia Costello [D4F]

**OMEGAS: **Shelley Fisher [D5F]; Arielle Wayne [D6F]; Azrayk Blaze [D9M]; Hyperion Ripley [D10M].

**SCYTHE GIRLS FT 1/2 OMEGAS:** Nathaniel Volkner [D5M]; Abundance Harper [D9F]; Luciente Ripley [D10F]; Heaven Jonas [D11F].

**LONERS:** Sedge Hastings [D12M]; Tamika Tran [D12F]


	40. Chapter XXXII: The Choices We Make

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

While this is a short chapter, I feel that because of the events that transpire in it and the next mean that they're better separated.

* * *

Arielle had cried for most of the previous day and into the night, when she had finally fallen asleep. _Put money on that one,_ Luciente had said, and Hyperion wanted to scoff, except—

Hadn't she been right last year?

And the year before.

And the year before that.

And when they young, too young, to fully understood what was going on, what these Games were, what they meant.

_They're going to die,_ she said, and they always did.

_Put money on that one_, she said, and if they had enough saved they always did.

And she was always right.

_We're going to be free_, she said, and not for the first time he wondered what she truly meant.

* * *

They ate the last of the eel as a makeshift breakfast as the sun rose and continued to follow the stream down. Perhaps he was finally feeling one of the things he was supposed to, because the woods seemed darker today, deeper, the trees closer together.

Hyperion held his spear a little tighter.

This was an unnatural place, and he didn't like it.

He'd heard nothing of Luciente last night either, as long and hard as he'd listened. She remained silent.

But she was alive.

Hyperion half wondered if the entire arena would feel it when she died.

And that was when a figure came tumbling from the trees towards them.

Chaos broke out.

Azrayk swung round with his makeshift spear, Hyperion hefted his real one, Shelley picked up a rock, and Arielle—

Well, he wasn't quite sure where she'd gone. Not far; he could hear her screams still.

The newcomer screamed and lunged at him, grabbing for his spear.

It took him a moment to even recognise them, they were so coated in blood and mud and suspicious white stains, their arena clothes barely remaining in scraps.

The girl from Four.

The one Luciente had called pretty during the reaping and been so obsessed with in training.

_Fuck_, what could have possibly happened in only two days to leave her in a state like this?

She was almost unrecognisable from the grey scaled creature from the chariot rides, the snappish, fiery Career from training, the hot-head in black from the interviews.

He slammed the length of the spear into her forehead, knocking her aside. She screamed again, scrabbling to get a grip on it, shrieking something, turning it into some bizarre game of tug-of-war where she wrenched it towards her and he pulled it back, all the while getting closer and closer to the stream. He needed to get her into the water, hold her under—

"Give it to me!" she screamed, yanking on the spear.

"Back off Four!" yelled Azrayk, charging her with his own makeshift weapon and driving it into her chest. Fortunately, that drove her away from him; unfortunately Azrayk's weapon wasn't sharp enough to even break the girl's skin and the blow only knocked her onto all fours. She wasted no time in tackling Azrayk around the knees, knocking him to the ground. The two of them wrestled in the dirt, shrieking and clawing and biting, until finally he had the good sense to grab the girl from Four around the neck and slam her head into a tree.

She wailed, bringing her hands up to clutch at her most likely broken nose, and slithered to the ground in a sobbing, slobbering heap.

Azrayk aimed his too blunt weapon at her, while Hyperion directed his too sharp one towards her head.

"What you waiting for wolf-boy?"

He had killed before, twice, three times now.

It would be easy.

He remembered that feeling of unease from what felt like so long ago now, the sense that _someone_ was in trouble.

Had that someone been the Careers, he wondered now, or, at least, some of them?

She had a noose of rope around her neck, he noticed now, fastened tight, and remaining scraps still around her wrists.

He hesitated.

"Hyperion!"

The girl from Four continued to wail, covered in blood – most likely her own – mud – most likely not – and something white he had really been hoping he was wrong about but was now suspecting he was not.

"Didn't you kill your own father?"

"He deserved it," he replied, and lowered the spear.

The girl from Four stared up at him in surprise, her mouth forming an 'o' shape of surprise.

"What the fuck happened Four?"


	41. XXXIII: All is Wild, All is Silent

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

Brace yourselves folks.

* * *

The trees looked closer together, and much closer to the cabin, than they had yesterday. It was unnatural, and abomination of nature.

It was not that Luciente was looking at.

She was feeling, listening, as the presence grew closer. Not a ghost, she recognised as they grew nearer, not a fairy.

Another tribute.

She drew her slingshot, slotted a projectile into place.

The girl from Twelve came sprinting full tilt from the trees. Her dark hair was a tangle around her face, her arena clothing half torn away, her boots and jacket missing altogether. Behind her Luciente heard Heaven scream but this girl was no threat. She had no weapons, no supplies even. Luciente lowered her slingshot.

"Stay away from me," the girl screamed, shrill and frantic, spitting out blood and bile and foam and who-knew-what else as she spoke. "Stay away from me; just— stay away."

"I won't hurt you," Luciente said, dangling the slingshot at her side.

For a flash of a moment she saw the girl knelt, the boy looming over her, his dark eyes large and delighted, his hands streaked with blood, tears staining the girl's cheeks.

She took a step towards her, held her hand out. "I can protect you from him."

Everyone needed protecting from the darkness.

The girl shook her head, sending blood and mud and unidentifiable stuff flying about her. She was afraid, Luciente recognised, too afraid.

"Luciente," Nathaniel called. "Come away."

The girl looked at him, looked at the backpack slung over his shoulders, and then shot like an arrow towards him. Nathaniel yelled and bolted behind the cabin; Luciente roared and dove after the girl; and a second figure came charging from the trees.

The girl from Two, she realised, though she looked in worse shape than when she saw her during the bloodbath. There was blood staining her sleeves and the left of her face had swollen and bruised a terrible black and purple.

She looked at them.

They looked at her.

The girl from Twelve screamed.

Luciente raised her slingshot and fired, but Two was already moving, charging towards Bunny with an almost fanatical fury. She screamed and dodged aside, lashing out with her knife, but she'd never stand a chance against a Career.

Luciente charged at her.

She looked at something – someone, she realised – behind her and let out a roar.

"You!" She dodged her attempted leap and sprinted towards Nathaniel and the girl from Twelve. "Get away from him! You're in league! Monster!"

_What?_

For once in her life, Luciente…

Didn't understand.

She didn't understand.

She rushed towards the girl from Twelve, but she had already managed to flee back into the trees and Heaven was confusing matters now, for some reason calling for her to come back – did she want to feed her to the girl from Two? – and getting overall far too close to the girl from Two.

The Career rushed towards her, raised her knives high.

Heaven screamed.

She fitted another projectile to her slingshot.

Heaven hurled herself aside, fleeing into the trees behind Nathaniel and the girl from Twelve, but the girl from Two charged after her, still waving his trident and yelling about 'being in league' and 'demons from hell.'

Luciente followed, snarling, chasing after her into the trees.

She couldn't get a clear shot with the slingshot, not while they were running, so she stuffed it back into her belt and tensed her legs.

And for a moment she was somewhere else, someone else, something other.

It was a moment too slow.

The knife plunged through Heaven's chest.

For a moment Heaven managed to stay on her feet, her mouth and eyes rounded in soft surprise, and then she toppled backwards into the stream, the water around her quickly turning red.

The girl from Two turned on Twelve, who seemed to have frozen by the waterside.

Luciente sprang.

She hit the girl from Two side on, throwing them both into the water, clawing at her arms, sinking her teeth deep into her throat. She screamed, twisting under her, thrashing, striking at her with strong fists and desperate arms. She was bigger stronger, but Luciente was on top, her mouth full of blood, hot, coppery, and it was running down her throat, choking her, but she couldn't stop now, not when she would lose if she did that.

They rolled in the water, pinning her underneath, and she wrapped her legs around Two's, fighting for purchase in the water, fighting for air as the liquid filled her mouth and nose and lungs, flipping over, choking, sinking her fingers into the bloody wound, ripping the fleshy wound further open. Two's own hands found her neck, squeezing tight, but she could feel her weakening, losing blood, losing life.

And then the pressure around her neck was gone.

Her body went a funny kind of slack.

Dead, like the rabbit, like her District partner, like their father.

She released her, sharp and sudden, and floundered in the water she realised only now was deep.

"Luciente!"

Nathaniel.

She kicked in the water, scrambling back onto shallower stone and then clambering out, dripping wet and bloody.

Nathaniel stared at her. His face was pale, his eyes wide in horror. "Is she- Is- Did- Is- she-?"

She licked her bloodied lips and nodded.

He and Bunny had pulled Heaven out onto the soft ground by the stream, the hilt of the knife still jutting from her chest. She was gasping, choking, grasping at the shaft of the thing.

"Heaven," Bunny sobbed, clutching to her hand.

Luciente knelt at her side, took her arm.

If she'd been faster…

Heaven wasn't like them, but she'd been pack, if only for a short while.

Heaven coughed up blood. "B- Bu- Bun-"

Her body fell limp.

Her eyes glazed over.

Two cannons fired.

* * *

**Author's Note**

And this is why I couldn't merge these two chapters! Also, apparently I'm killing tributes off in pairs now? Believe it or not, it's a coincidence. Or is it..?


	42. ChapterXXXIV: Animals Learning to Behave

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

"That boy," the girl from Four wailed, wrapping her arms around herself. "He's a monster!"

"What boy?" asked Azrayk impatiently.

"One of the other Careers?" Shelley asked.

Four shook her head. "He- _Oh God_!"

If not one of the other Careers-

Who else was left?

Four pitched forwards, sobbing and shaking. "Water- Please, do you have any water?"

Hyperion glanced at Azrayk, who still looked like he wanted to try running the Career girl through with his blunt spear. He grabbed Four's arm and gave it a firm yank, dragging her over to the stream. "There."

She almost collapsed into the water, scooping it up in her hands and gulping it down desperately.

No one was scolding _her_ for not using iodine.

She splashed it over her face, scrubbing at her skin with trembling hands. She stank of blood and dirt and another male.

Hyperion stood over her with his spear still directed down at her head, while Azrayk loomed on her other side and Shelley a little way behind her. Arielle appeared to have fled entirely when the Career arrived, which shouldn't really have surprised him.

The cannons, however, did make them all jump.

The girl from Four let out a low wail, running a wet hand through her bloody blonde hair. "Nike."

That seemed to give Azrayk pause. "The girl from One?"

Four sniffled, still dribbling blood from her nose. She looked fucking _pathetic_, not at all like the angry, fire-filled girl he'd seen during training.

"Did your alliance split already?"

It was only the third day. Career packs usually lasted longer than that, at least the first five days, normally the first week.

She shook her head. "We were… exploring. And- h-h-hunting for other tributes."

"Right," drawled Azrayk. "And why aren't we killing her wolf-boy?"

She dragged a hand across her face, smearing her cheeks with blood. "He'll come for you," she said, looking up at Shelley. "You- and her- and your pretty sister."

Hyperion roared and kicked her hard in the ribs.

His mouth tasted of blood.

Luciente had been _nice_ to her; obsessed with her, and _this_ was what she came out with?

Azrayk seemed to do some quick calculations and come up with the same result at the same time as he did.

"The boy from Twelve?" he asked with a look of confused realisation.

Four nodded frantically and curled herself into a tight ball.

"The boy from Twelve?" Shelley echoed, looking sceptical. "The boy from _Twelve_ did this to you?"

"He's a fucking demon," Four whispered, scrubbing at her eyes. "He'd set up some kind of traps; got a r-rope round Nike's neck. It was going to choke her, so Livi w-was trying to get her down, but then she was gone and- and- and-" She shook her head.

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!"

He probably cracked her round the head, Hyperion figured, given her injuries. Bound her up, got rid of the one he didn't want-

Shelley had gone a rather peculiar colour. "Did- Did he- He…" She waved her hand uselessly at her crotch.

The girl from Four burst into tears anew.

Hyperion had a sudden flash of lucidity, a barely remembered moment he'd thought was important at the time but cast away for things that had seemed more important in the heat of the moment.

Luciente on the hovercraft, peering at the girl from Twelve, gesturing at her breasts and crotch, the girl from Twelve making some silent reply.

_Make sure that one dies._

He hadn't.

He hadn't even remembered about it until now.

He should have known better than that.

But he hadn't even seen the boy from Twelve during the bloodbath! If he had, he might have remembered, might have slashed his throat open instead of the girl from Three, might have saved little miss Four this.

"It wasn't meant to be like this," sobbed Four, drawing her bloody knees up to her filthy chest. "It wasn't meant to be like this, it wasn't meant to be like this!"

Azrayk cleared his throat. "We should kill her and be down another Career."

They should.

Of course they should.

Without her and once they found Luciente, their alliance would be the biggest remaining.

So why was he hesitating?

They were all looking at him, Azrayk and Shelley and the girl from Four, all of them expecting him to strike the blow.

They didn't have the guts, he realised.

They had never killed before, maybe not even the girl from Four, so they were looking to him to do it.

And still he was hesitating.

_What do I do Luciente?_


	43. Chapter XXXV: Bonds Between Us

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

He drew his knife, flipped it over, and held it, handle out, to Azrayk.

He stared at it numbly. "What- what- what-?"

"You do it."

"What?"

"I killed in the Bloodbath."

(and before that, long before that)

"Let's see you do it."

He took the knife with a shaking hand, looked down at the girl from Four. "I-"

And suddenly he looked an awful lot less sure of himself than he had when he had been passing the sentence but not holding the blade.

"She needs to die," he said, raising the blade high above his head.

That was no way to kill anything.

A moment later he lowered it again, stared at the girl from Four. "I can't."

Hyperion reached for the knife, returned it to his belt. "That's what I thought."

The girl from Four laughed slightly, rocking on the spot. "You're fucking weak. Two pansies and a puppy dog pretending to be a wolf!"

"Don't make me regret not killing you Four."  
Slowly, Shelley unzipped her jacket, peeling her arms from the damp sleeves.

Four smiled widely. "And why haven't you killed me?"

He smiled back. "Because first you're going to lead us back to the boy from Twelve."

* * *

"We need to move," Nathaniel said, glancing about himself. Bunny was still knelt by Heaven's body, clutching her hand, while Luciente had knelt to grasp the trident still lodged in Heaven's chest.

"They're going to be sending the hovercraft to pick up the bodies."

"Just a bit longer. She might still-"

"Bunny, she's gone," Nathaniel replied.

"No, but she might-"

"Her cannon fired."

"It could have been someone else- It probably was-"

"Bunny."

Bunny rocked back away from the body, gasping and choking on tears. "What am I going to do?"

Luciente wrenched the knife free from Heaven's body with a bloody, squelching sound. "Everything has its time, and everything dies."

Bunny gaped at her.

"Stay with us."

She held the knife out towards the other girl. Slowly, shakily, Bunny pushed herself to her feet.

"You're part of our pack now."

However temporary it was, it had become that way.

They weren't just a paired pack anymore.

Bunny reached out a trembling hand and took the knife, gripping it tight.

"Luciente," she whispered.

"You spoke… directly to me."

Nathaniel smiled. "Yeah, she does that sometimes."

Luciente turned back towards the stream. The body of the girl from Two was still floating there, bobbing in the water, staining it red around her.

"W-We should probably get the rest of our supplies from the cabin. In case anyone else comes across it."

Luciente inclined her head in agreement.

Slowly, stiffly, shakily, they returned the cabin and gathered up their supplies, pulling the backpacks over their shoulders. Bunny cast constant, anxious looks at the trees around their tiny meadow, as though expecting another Career to appeared from nowhere at any moment.

"They won't," Luciente said.

Bunny looked at her. "Won't what?"

"Appear again."

Bunny frowned at her and then looked back to the trees, still clutching the knife that had killed Heaven.

"You can't know that."

"I can feel it."

Bunny sighed and shook her head. As they moved back towards the stream, she drew the knife that had been her sponsor gift, smaller and narrower than the girl from Two's, and held it out to Nathaniel. "Here."

He stared at it. "What?"

"You take it. It doesn't make any sense, me having two weapons and you having none."

He nodded, shakily reaching out to grasp the knife and clipping the sheath to his belt. "Thank you."

Bunny shrugged.

They worked their way between the trees back to the stream. By the time they got there, Heaven's body and the girl from Two were gone. Bunny stopped to gaze at the place where her ally had died, still splattered with blood but otherwise undisturbed. For a moment Luciente thought she was going to cry again, but she simply kissed her hand, pressed it to the tree nearest where Heaven had lain, and followed as Luciente began to pick a path along the stream.

"So what exactly are we going to do?"

"We're going treasure hunting!" Nathaniel replied, with an odd enthusiasm for him.

"Treasure hunting?" Bunny asked doubtfully behind her.

He shrugged, trailing after Luciente as she began to pick her way along the still slightly pink stream.

"Looking for what, exactly?"

"I don't know. But I get the feeling she does, even if she didn't find it yesterday."

"I'll know it when I find it. Bethany seemed to think it had been there a long time."

Bunny froze. "What does Bethany have to do with anything? She died in the bloodbath."

"What's dead is never truly gone. The dead leave an impression."

"You're talking about ghosts?"

Nathaniel nodded slowly. "My mum used to say I could talk to ghosts. Back when I was really little."

Luciente gave him a sharp look.

Oh, now that was interesting.

So he had had the gift, but then he'd lost it.

Maybe that was what she could sense.

But why would he lose it?

She never lost hers.

Maybe it was because she used it, and he never did. Or maybe it was because something had gone wrong with him, he wasn't… complete like her.

Maybe he just hadn't had enough, so it faded as he grew.

"And you've been talking to Bethany?" Bunny asked as they approached the cliff. She didn't believe her, Luciente felt. Well, no matter. Not many people did.

"Don't be silly. Ghosts can't talk."

"Silly me," muttered Bunny. "What was I thinking?" She stopped at the sight of the sea, staring out across it. "Wow."

Nathaniel grinned. "It's awesome, right?"

Bunny shrugged. "It's probably partly a hologram. You know, forcefield and all that. Where are we going?"

Luciente pointed at the white tipped waves. She could feel it, pulsing beneath her skin, echoing in her ears.

_Seek me_, it said, _find me, use me, admire me._

But most of all, it said _power_.

"Of course we are."

* * *

Some kind sponsor had sent the District Four girl, who was apparently called Illenia, a pair of shorts and a bra, which at least made her somewhat presentable. She led them through the trees, occasionally still sniffling or lifting a hand to her very obviously broken nose.

Not so pretty now.

"You don't seem like the heroic type Ten. Why are you doing this?"

_Luciente._

He poked her with his spear. "Keep your mouth shut unless you're directing us Four."


	44. Chapter XXXVI: The Echo of Us

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

Eventually, dusk fell, the light fading through the trees. As the Capital anthem placed, Hyperion climbed up one of the larger, stouter trees and pulled some of the branches back. The face of the girl from Two appeared above them, followed soon after by the girl from Eleven. Her smiling image faded away.

Not the girl from One like Four had believed.

Hyperion climbed back down, jumping the final few feet and scaring the shit out of Shelley.

"Well?" demanded Azrayk.

"Girls from Two and Eleven."

Four stared at him. "Livi," she whispered.

He shrugged. He'd never known either of their names; never particularly cared to know.

Four sprang to her feet. "But not Nike! She's alive; and he could be- We have to help her!"

Hyperion shrugged. "It'll be dark soon."

Four scowled. "We have to help her."

"I don't know who this 'we' is Four," Azrayk said dryly.

"Aye, that sounds like more of a 'you' problem," agreed Shelley.

"But you- We can't leave her there!"

"We're not doing anything in the dark. You're free to do whatever the hell you want."

She scowled, looking about the three of them. "Cowards."

Azrayk waved an arm. "Go ahead and be our guest. I don't know why we're on this fucking quest to begin with."

"Maybe I will!"

"Go on then!"

"Don't push me Nine!"

"Oh, I'm pushing you alright!"

"Fucking cowards!" she spat. Hyperion cracked her round the legs with his spear hard enough to force her to the ground and jabbed the end at her face. She scrabbled against the dirt with one hand, grabbing at the spear with the other.

"You're useful Four, but you're not vital. Don't make me stab out something that is. If you want to go, then go."

Four glanced around her at the rapidly darkening trees.

Five minutes later when the last of the light had faded she was still with them.

Hyperion took the first watch that night. Part of him was hopeful Luciente might call again, howl out for him in the empty night.

It never came.

He didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad one.

With Luciente it could be either.

And he was away from the stream now, away from his path to her.

But he would find her.

They could always find each other, even when they roamed, even when they were miles and miles apart, they could always find each other. They were family, pack, and they were always drawn back together.

So long as there were no canons tonight, he knew she was safe for a little longer.

Four sat away from their little trio, huddled by a different tree, her arms wrapped around her knees. The monster that had done this to her was still out there.

And so was Luciente.

_Make sure that one dies._

He hadn't, but now he was going to fix that.

He was going to make this right, before it could reach her.

He had to.

He could only hope she was alright, only hope she was safe. It was almost as bad as being back in prison again, sitting in his cell night after night after night, not knowing if she was well, if she was safe, if she was happy and free and roaming.

Except at home the risk of death came from the Peacekeepers.

Here in the arena the risk of death came from everywhere.

The land, the other tributes, the mutts, the Gamemakers.

There were still two Careers out there unaccounted for.

Luciente was good, but how was she meant to defend herself against tributes who had trained for this their entire lives?

How was she meant to defend herself against something that could kill that kind of tribute?

Even when Shelley took over watching and guarding Four he fell asleep worrying about the matter and woke before the dawn to the sound of howling ringing out inside his head.

_Luciente._

He sat up abruptly, jerking his spear over his lap, glancing this way and that.

The howling sounded… clearer than normal. Louder too. Closer, he wondered, and then dismissed that.

Something told him he would feel it.

He dug the fingers of his free hand into the earth, closed his eyes, and sent out an answering, echoing call.

_Come to me_, she had said yesterday, _come to me_.

The plan had been that they would be together; they needed to be together.

_Find me, come to me, find me brother._

And he would.

But first he had to fulfil another promise.

_Make sure that one dies._

Azrayk looked about himself. "Something wrong wolf-boy?"

He rocked back on his heels. "Thought I heard something."

Azrayk rolled his eyes. "You're way too paranoid sometimes, you know that?"

He grunted a reply, listening as the howls faded.

* * *

He, Azrayk and Shelley shared a few crackers to stave off the familiar gnawing hunger. Four glared at them hungrily, hunching against a tree.

They gave her nothing.

They only needed her until they could find the boy from Twelve and he could fulfil his promise. Then he was removing another tribute from their path and she was dead.

* * *

They had spent the night on the beach, unsure and afraid that the rest of the careers might have been somewhere around the girl from Two, might have found the cabin. It was kind of chilly, though not freezing, and the three of them pressed together for warmth. Bunny cried most of the night, sobbing into her arms, and Luciente was unsure whether she slept.

Nathaniel shook her arm shortly before the sun began to rise. "Luciente."

She raised her head, frowned, and then she felt the hum.

"There's someone here."

She shook her head, scanned the beach until she found the lone, forlorn figure down at the edge of the tide. "It's alright. They won't hurt us."

"This is the Hunger Games Luciente; everything wants to hurt us."

"The dead can't hurt anyone." She pushed herself to her feet, stretched her stiff limbs, and padded across the hard sand towards the swirling tide.

"Luciente!" Nathaniel hissed from behind her.

"Do you want to meet her?"

Nathaniel looked frantically between her and the still crying Bunny and then hurried after her to catch up. "Who is she? Shelley or Azrayk?"

Luciente smiled. "No; they're upstream with Hyperion."

"How do you- then who then?"

She stopped as the tide began to lap at their boots. Bethany's shimmering yellow jacket stood out against the flat grey sea. Nathaniel stared at her, past her, through her. Bethany lifted a hand and pointed outwards and downwards into the grey water. Luciente followed her indication. She could see nothing, but she could feel it, stronger than ever now, a humming purr that vibrated her bones.

She needed whatever that was.

"What is that?" she heard someone ask.

Bethany opened her mouth as though to make a sound, and footsteps echoed across the beach behind them.

"You could have woken me," Bunny grumbled.

Bethany smiled, sadly, and faded away.

Bunny wrapped her arms around herself, gazing out to sea. "It looks so peaceful like this."

Nathaniel shook his head. "Luciente, that… shimmering thing. What was it?"

So he did see her, or at least know she was there.

She knew he was gifted.

"Bethany."

Would Heaven join them, she wondered?

These things were never certain, else the world would be overrun with ghosts.

"Bethany died in the bloodbath," Bunny said a little shakily.

"What's dead can never hurt us. I need whatever's down there." Luciente unzipped her jacket and peeled it off, handing it to Nathaniel. He frowned.

"What's down there?"

"If I knew, this would be easier." She took a step back to remove her boots, tying them together by the laces and draping them around Nathaniel's neck like an odd looking necklace.

Bunny shook her head. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"It's important. Whatever's down there… I can feel it."

_Oh_, she could feel it like she had never felt anything before.

And she needed it.

She craved it.

"We have no idea how deep that water is."

Luciente reached down and plunged her hand into it, closing her eyes. The water was cold against her skin, salty and foam tipped, dropping down and down, and the land felt mostly natural.

"Deep enough."

"And… whatever it is you want. Will it help us?"

Luciente turned to her. "It will help us be free."

Bunny wet her lips and then nodded. "Alright then. There's no use us all going in; Nathaniel and I will keep watch here. You should… maybe take off your trousers and shirt as well, so you have something dry to wear afterwards."

"Good idea." Luciente pulled them off, handing them to Bunny.

"Have you ever swum that deep before?"

"I know what I'm looking for."

"That's… not an answer to the question I asked."

Luciente gave her a smile, wading further out into the water. Nathaniel backed up to the water's edge, glancing about himself. Luciente cast one last long look at him and then drew in a deep breath and plunged under the water.

It was cold.

She'd known it was, it had been cold when it barely reached her chest, but now it closed over her face she could appreciate how truly, boneachingly cold it really was.

She kicked her legs furiously, propelling herself downwards. She could feel the call, singing in her veins, but she was still human (mostly), and humans needed air. After thirty seconds her lungs were burning, after forty she was fighting the water with leaden limbs and seemingly getting no closer to that haunting call.

After fifty she had to return to the surface to take another lungful of air.

"Anything?" Nathaniel called out, but she only shook her head.

This might take longer than she had hoped.

* * *

**THE FALLEN**

District Two Female: Livia Dolabella. Killed by Luciente Ripley of District Ten. Placed Fourteenth.

Livi was likely one of the strongest tributes in this story, a terrible person, and while an excellent Career, doing it for all the wrong reasons. Thank you for submitting her Celtic, and stay tuned! Livi is going to have an impact yet.

District Eleven Female: Heaven Jonas. Killed by Livia Dolabella of District Two. Placed Thirteenth.

Heaven was a sweetheart who deserved more than this. She gave a slightly more lighthearted feel to an otherwise very grim situation, and was always fun to write for. Thank you for her, A Proud Bibliophile!


End file.
